THE  INDISCRETION 

OF  THE  DUCHESS 


THE  INDISCRETION 
OF  THE  DUCHESS 


Being  a  Story  Concerning  Two  Ladies, 
a  Nobleman,  and  a  Necklace 


BY 

ANTHONY   HOPE  ' 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  PRISONER  OF  ZENDA  "  ETC. 


NEW    YORK 

HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 
1894 


COPYRIGHT,  1894, 

BY 
HENRY  HOLT  &  CO. 


THE  MERSHON  COMPANY   PRESS, 
RAH  WAY,  N.  J. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    A  MULTITUDE  OF  GOOD  REASONS,       .       i 
II.    THE  SIGNIFICANCE  OF  A  SUPPER-TABLE,    n 

III.  THE  UNEXPECTED  THAT  ALWAYS  HAP- 

PENED,        19 

IV.  THE  DUCHESS  DEFINES  HER  POSITION,      29 
V.    A  STRATEGIC  RETREAT,         ...      39 

VI.    A  HINT  OF  SOMETHING  SERIOUS,      .          51 
VII.    HEARD  THROUGH  THE  DOOR,        .        .     62 

VIII.    I  FIND  THAT  I  CARE,         ...          72 

\ 

IX.  AN  UNPARALLELED  INSULT,          .  .      83 

X.  LEFT  ON  MY  HANDS,          ...  92 

XI.  A  VERY  CLEVER  SCHEME,     .       .  .101 

XII.  As  A  MAN  POSSESSED,         .        .  no 

XIII.  A  TIMELY  TRUCE,          .        .        .  .120 

XIV.  FOR  AN  EMPTY  Box,           ...  130 
XV.  I  CHOOSE  MY  WAY,       ,        .        .  .140 

XVI.    THE  INN  NEAR  PONTORSON,       .        .         150 
XVII.    A  RELUCTANT  INTRUSION,     .  .163 

iii 


IV  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVIII.  A  STRANGE  GOOD  HUMOR,  .       .       .173 

XIX.  UNSUMMONED  WITNESSES,  .       .        183 

XX.  THE  DUKE'S  EPITAPH,  .       .       .193 

XXI.  A  PASSING  CARRIAGE,         .  .       .       203 

XXII.  FROM  SHADOW  TO  SUNSHINE,  .       .    214 


THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE 
DUCHESS. 

CHAPTER  I. 
B  /Ifoultttu&e  of  <3oo&  IReasons, 

N  accordance  with  many  most  excel- 
lent precedents,  I  might  begin  by 
claiming  the  sympathy  due  to  an 
orphan  alone  in  the  world.  I  might 
even  summon  my  unguided  childhood  and  the 
absence  of  parental  training  to  excuse  my  faults 
and  extenuate  my  indiscretions.  But  the  sym- 
pathy which  I  should  thus  gain  would  be 
achieved,  I  fear,  by  something  very  like  false  pre- 
tenses. For  my  solitary  state  sat  very  lightly 
upon  me — the  sad  events  which  caused  it  being 
softened  by  the  influence  of  time  and  habit — and 
had  the  recommendation  of  leaving  me,  not 
only  free  to  manage  my  own  life  as  I  pleased, 
but  also  possessed  of  a  competence  which  added 
power  to  my  freedom.  And  as  to  the  indiscre- 
tions— well,  to  speak  it  in  all  modesty  and  with 
a  becoming  consciousness  of  human  frailty,  I 
think  that  the  undoubted  indiscretions — that  I 
may  use  no  harder  term — which  were  com- 


2  „     THE,  INDISCRETION  OF  .THE  DUCHESS. 

mitted  in  the  course  of  a  certain  fortnight  were 
not  for  the  most  part  of  my  doing  or  contriving. 
For  throughout  the  transactions  which  followed 
on  my  arrival  in  France,  I  was  rather  the  sport 
of  circumstances  than  the  originator  of  any 
scheme ;  and  the  prominent  part  which  I  played 
was  forced  upon  me,  at  first  by  whimsical 
chance,  and  later  on  by  the  imperious  calls 
made  upon  me  by  the  position  into  which  I  was 
thrust. 

The  same  reason  that  absolves  me  from  the 
need  of  excuse  deprives  me  of  the  claim  to 
praise  ;  and,  looking  back,  I  am  content  to  find 
nothing  of  which  I  need  seriously  be  ashamed, 
and  glad  to  acknowledge  that,  although  Fate 
chose  to  put  me  through  some  queer  paces,  she 
was  not  in  the  end  malevolent,  and  that,  now 
the  whole  thing  is  finished,  I  have  no  cause  to 
complain  of  the  ultimate  outcome  of  it.  In 
saying  that,  I  speak  purely  and  solely  for  my- 
self. There  is  one  other  for  whom  I  might 
perhaps  venture  to  say  the  same  without  undue 
presumption,  but  I  will  not ;  while  for  the  rest, 
it  must  suffice  for  me  to  record  their  fortunes, 
without  entering  on  the  deep  and  grave  ques- 
tions which  are  apt  to  suggest  themselves  to 
anyone  who  considers  with  a  thoughtful  mind 
the  characters  and  the  lives  of  those  with 
whom  he  is  brought  in  contact  on  his  way 
through  the  world.  The  good  in  wicked  folk, 
the  depths  in  shallow  folk,  the  designs  of  hap- 
hazard minds,  the  impulsive  follies  of  the  cun- 
ning— all  these  exist,  to  be  dimly  discerned  by 
any  one  of  us,  to  be  ignored  by  none  save  those 


A   MULTITUDE  OF  GOOD  REASONS.          3 

who  are  content  to  label  a  man  with  the  name 
of  one  quality  and  ignore  all  else  in  him,  but  to 
be  traced,  fully  understood,  and  intelligently 
shown  forth  only  by  the  few  who  are  gifted  to 
read  and  expound  the  secrets  of  human  hearts. 
That  is  a  gift  beyond  my  endowment,  and  fitted 
for  a  task  too  difficult  for  my  hand.  Frankly, 
I  did  not,  always  and  throughout,  discern  as 
clearly  as  I  could  desire  the  springs  on  which 
the  conduct  of  my  fellow-actors  turned  ;  and 
the  account  I  have  given  of  their  feelings  and 
their  motives  must  be  accepted  merely  as  my 
reading  of  them,  and  for  what,  as  such,  it  is 
worth.  The  actual  facts  speak  for  themselves. 
Let  each  man  read  them  as  he  will ;  and  if  he 
does  not  indorse  all  my  views,  yet  he  will,  I 
venture  to  think,  be  recompensed  by  a  story 
which  even  the  greatest  familiarity  and  long 
pondering  has  not  robbed  of  all  its  interest  for 
me.  But  then  I  must  admit  that  I  have  reasons 
which  no  one  else  can  have  for  following  with 
avidity  every  stage  and  every  development  in 
the  drama,  and  for  seeking  to  discern  now 
what  at  the  time  was  dark  and  puzzling  to  me. 

The  thing  began  in  the  most  ordinary  way  in 
the  world — or  perhaps  that  is  too  strongly  put. 
The  beginning  was  ordinary  indeed,  and  tame, 
compared  with  the  sequel.  Yet  even  the  begin- 
ning had  a  flavor  of  the  unusual  about  it,  strong 
enough  to  startle  a  man  so  used  to  a  humdrum 
life  and  so  unversed  in  anything  out  of  the 
common  as  I.  Here,  then,  is  the  beginning : 

One  morning,  as  I  sat  smoking  my  after- 
breakfast  cigar  in  my  rooms  in  St.  James'  Street, 


4        THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

my  friend  Gustave  de  Berensac  rushed  in.  His 
bright  brown  eyes  were  sparkling,  his  mus- 
tache seemed  twisted  up  more  gayly  and  tri- 
umphantly than  ever,  and  his  manner  was  redo- 
lent of  high  spirits.  Yet  it  was  a  dull,  somber, 
misty  morning,  for  all  that  the  month  was  July 
and  another  day  or  two  would  bring  August. 
But  Gustave  was  a  merry  fellow,  though  always 
(as  I  had  occasion  to  remember  later  on)  within 
the  limits  of  becoming  mirth — as  to  which,  to 
be  sure,  there  may  be  much  difference  of 
opinion. 

"  Shame  ! "  he  cried,  pointing  at  me.  "  You 
are  a  man  of  leisure,  nothing  keeps  you  here  ; 
yet  you  stay  in  this  bouillon  of  an  atmosphere, 
with  France  only  twenty  miles  away  over  the 
sea ! " 

"  They  have  fogs  in  France  too,"  said  I. 
"  But  whither  tends  your  impassioned  speech, 
my  good  friend  ?  Have  you  got  leave  ?  " 

Gustave  was  at  this  time  an  extra  secretary 
at  the  French  Embassy  in  London. 

"  Leave  ?  Yes,  I  have  leave — and,  what  is 
more,  I  have  a  charming  invitation." 

'*  My  congratulations,"  said  I. 

"  An  invitation  which  includes  a  friend,"  he 
continued,  sitting  down.  "  Ah,  you  smile ! 
You  mean  that  is  less  interesting  ?  " 

"  A  man  may  smile  and  smile,  and  not  be  a 
villain,"  said  I.  "  I  meant  nothing  of  the  sort. 
I  smiled  at  your  exhilaration — nothing  more, 
on  the  word  of  a  moral  Englishman." 

Gustave  grimaced  ;  then  he  waved  his  ciga- 
rette in  the  air,  exclaiming  : 


A   MULTITUDE  OF  GOOD  REASONS.          5 

"  She  is  charming,  my  dear  Gilbert !  " 

"  The  exhilaration  is  explained." 

"  There  is  not  a  word  to  be  said  against  her," 
he  added  hastily. 

"That  does  not  depress  me,"  said  I.  "But 
why  should  she  invite  me  ?  " 

"  She  doesn't  invite  you ;  she  invites  me  to 
bring — anybody  ! " 

"  Then  she  is  ennuyfo,  I  presume  ?  " 

"  Who  would  not  be,  placed  as  she  is  ?  He 
is  inhuman  !  " 

"M.  le  mar  if  " 

"  You  are  not  so  stupid,  after  all !  He  for- 
bids her  to  see  a  single  soul ;  we  must  steal 
our  visit,  if  we  go." 

"  He  is  away,  then  ?  " 

"The  kind  government  has  sent  him  on  a 
special  mission  of  inquiry  to  Algeria.  Three 
cheers  for  the  government ! " 

"  By  all  means,"  said  I.  "  When  are  you 
going  to  approach  the  subject  of  who  these 
people  are  ?  " 

"  You  will  not  trust  my  discernment  ?  " 

"  Alas,  no  !  You  are  too  charitable — to  one 
half  of  humanity." 

"  Well,  I  will  tell  you.  She  is  a  great  friend 
of  my  sister's — they  were  brought  up  in  the 
same  convent ;  she  is  also  a  good  comrade  of 
mine." 

"  A  good  comrade  ?  " 

"  That  is  just  it ;  for  I,  you  know,  suffer 
hopelessly  elsewhere." 

"  What,  Lady  Cynthia  still  ?  " 

"  Still ! "  echoed  Gustave  with  a  tragic  air. 


6        THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

But  he  recovered  in  a  moment.  "  Lady  Cynthia 
being,  however,  in  Switzerland,  there  is  no 
reason  why  I  should  not  go  to  Normandy." 

"  Oh,  Normandy  ?  " 

"  Precisely.     It  is  there  that  the  duchess " 

"  Oho  !    The  duchess  ?  " 

"  Is  residing  in  retirement  in  a  small  chdteau, 
alone  save  for  my  sister's  society." 

"  And  a  servant  or  two,  I  presume  ?  " 

"  You  are  just  right,  a  servant  or  two ;  for  he 
is  most  stingy  to  her  (though  not,  they  say,  to 
everybody),  and  gives  her  nothing  when  he  is 
away." 

"  Money  is  a  temptation,  you  see." 

"  Mon  Dieu,  to  have  none  is  a  greater  ! "  and 
Gustave  shook  his  head  solemnly. 

"  The  duchess  of  what  ?  "  I  asked  patiently. 

"  You  will  have  heard  of  her,"  he  said,  with 
a  proud  smile.  Evidently  he  thought  that  the 
lady  was  a  trump  card.  "  The  Duchess  of 
Saint-Maclou." 

I  laid  down  my  cigar,  maintaining,  however, 
a  calm  demeanor. 

"  Aha  !  "  said  Gustave.  "  You  will  come, 
my  friend  ?  " 

I  could  not  deny  that  Gustave  had  a  right  to 
his  little  triumph  ;  for  a  year  ago,  when  the 
duchess  had  visited  England  with  her  husband, 
I  had  received  an  invitation  to  meet  her  at  the 
Embassy.  Unhappily,  the  death  of  a  relative 
(whom  I  had  never  seen)  occurring  the  day 
before,  I  had  been  obliged  to  post  off  to  Ireland, 
and  pay  proper  respect  by  appearing  at  the 
funeral.  When  I  returned  the  duchess  had 


A   MULTITUDE   OF  GOOD  REASONS.  7 

gone,  and  Gustave  had,  half-ironically,  con- 
soled my  evident  annoyance  by  telling  me  that 
he  had  given  such  a  description  of  me  to  his 
friend  that  she  shared  my  sorrow,  and  had  left 
a  polite  message  to  that  effect.  That  I  was 
not  much  consoled  needs  no  saying.  That  I 
required  consolation  will  appear  not  unnatural 
when  I  say  that  the  duchess  was  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  and  well-known  persons  in 
French  society ;  yes,  and  outside  France  also. 
For  she  was  a  cosmopolitan.  Her  father  was 
French,  her  mother  American ;  and  she  had 
passed  two  or  three  years  in  England  before 
her  marriage.  She  was  very  pretty,  and, 
report  said,  as  witty  as  a  pretty  woman  need 
be.  Once  she  had  been  rich,  but  the  money 
was  swallowed  up  by  speculation  ;  she  and  her 
father  (the  mother  was  dead)  were  threatened 
with  such  reduction  of  means  as  seemed  to 
them  penury ;  and  the  marriage  with  the  duke 
had  speedily  followed — the  precise  degree  o'f 
unwillingness  on  the  part  of  Mile,  de  Beville 
being  a  disputed  point.  Men  said  she  was 
forced  into  the  marriage,  women  very  much 
doubted  it ;  the  lady  herself  gave  no  indication, 
and  her  father  declared  that  the  match  was 
one  of  affection.  All  this  I  had  heard  from 
common  friends  ;  only  a  series  of  annoying 
accidents  had  prevented  the  more  interesting 
means  of  knowledge  which  acquaintance  with 
the  duchess  herself  would  have  afforded. 

"  You  have  always,"  said  Gustave,  "  wanted 
to  know  her." 

I  relit  my  cigar  and  puffed  thoughtfully.     It 


8        THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

was  true  that  I  had  rather  wished  to  know 
her. 

"  My  belief  is,"  he  continued,  "  that  though 
she  says '  anybody/  she  means  you.  She  knows 
what  friends  we  are  ;  she  knows  you  are  eager 
to  be  among  her  friends ;  she  would  guess  that 
I  should  ask  you  first." 

I  despise  and  hate  a  man  who  is  not  open 
to  flattery  :  he  is  a  hard,  morose,  distrustful, 
cynical  being,  doubting  the  honesty  of  his 
friends  and  the  worth  of  his  own  self.  I  leant 
an  ear  to  Gustave's  suggestion. 

"  What  she  would  not  guess,"  he  said,  throw- 
ing his  cigarette  into  the  fireplace  and  rising  to 
his  feet,  "  is  that  you  would  refuse  when  I  did 
ask  you.  What  shall  be  the  reason  ?  Shocked, 
are  you  ?  Or  afraid  ?  " 

Gustave  spoke  as  though  nothing  could  either 
shock  or  frighten  him. 

"  I'm  merely  considering  whether  it  will 
amuse  me,"  I  returned.  "How  long  are  we 
asked  for  ?  " 

"  That  depends  on  diplomatic  events." 

"  The  mission  to  Algeria  ?  " 

"Why,  precisely." 

I  put  my  hands  in  my  pockets. 

"  I  should  certainly  be  glad,  my  dear 
Gustave,"  said  I,  "to  meet  your  sister 
again." 

"  We  take  the  boat  for  Cherbourg  to-morrow 
evening  !  "  he  cried  triumphantly,  slapping  me 
on  the  back.  "  And,  in  my  sister's  name,  many 
thanks !  I  will  make  it  clear  to  the  duchess 
why  you  come." 


A   MULTITUDE  OF  GOOD  REASONS.          9 

"  No  need  to  make  bad  blood  between  them 
like  that,"  I  laughed. 

In  fine,  I  was  pleased  to  go ;  and,  on  reflec- 
tion, there  was  no  reason  why  I  should  not  go. 
I  said  as  much  to  Gustave. 

"  Seeing  that  everybody  is  going  out  of  town 
and  the  place  will  be  a  desert  in  a  week,  I'm 
certainly  not  wanted  here  just  now." 

"  And  seeing  that  the  duke  is  gone  to  Algeria, 
we  certainly  are  wanted  there,"  said  Gustave. 

"  And  a  man  should  go  where  he  is  wanted," 
said  I. 

"  And  a  man  is  wanted,"  said  Gustave, 
"  where  a  lady  bids  him  come." 

"  It  would,"   I   cried,   "  be  impolite  not  to 

go-" 

"  It  would  be  dastardly.  Besides,  think  how 
you  will  enjoy  the  memory  of  it ! " 

"  The  memory  ?  "  I  repeated,  pausing  in  my 
eager  walk  up  and  down. 

"  It  will  be  a  sweet  memory,"  he  said. 

"  Ah  ! " 

"  Because,  my  friend,  it  is  prodigiously  un- 
wise— for  you." 

"  And  not  for  you  ?  " 

"  Why,  no.     Lady  Cynthia " 

He  broke  off,  content  to  indicate  the  shield 
that  protected  him.  But  it  was  too  late  to  draw 
back. 

"  Let  it  be  as  unwise,"  said  I,  "  as  it  will " 

"  Or  as  the  duke  is,"  put  in  Gustave,  with  a 
knowing  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  Yet  it  is  a  plan  as  delightful " 

"  As  the  duchess  is,"  said  Gustave. 


10      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

And  so,  for  all  the  excellent  reasons  which 
may  be  collected  from  the  foregoing  conversa- 
tion,— and  if  carefully  tabulated  they  would,  I 
am  persuaded,  prove  as  numerous  as  weighty, — 
I  went. 


CHAPTER  II. 
Significance  of  a 


HE  Aycons  of  Aycon  Knoll  have 
always  been  a  hard-headed,  level- 
headed race.  We  have  had  no  en- 
thusiasms, few  ambitions,  no  illusions, 
and  not  many  scandals.  We  keep  our  heads 
on  our  shoulders  and  our  purses  in  our  pockets. 
We  do  not  rise  very  high,  but  we  have  never 
sunk.  We  abide  at  the  Knoll  from  generation 
to  generation,  deeming  our  continued  existence 
in  itself  a  service  to  the  state  and  an  honor  to 
the  house.  We  think  more  highly  of  ourselves 
than  we  admit,  and  allow  ourselves  to  smile 
when  we  walk  in  to  dinner  behind  the  new 
nobility.  We  grow  just  a  little  richer  with 
every  decade,  and  add  a  field  or  two  to  our 
domains  once  in  five  years.  The  gaps  made  by 
falling  rents  we  have  filled  by  judicious  pur- 
chases of  land  near  rising  towns  ;  and  we  have 
no  doubt  that  there  lies  before  us  a  future  as 
long  and  prosperous  as  our  past  has  been.  We 
are  not  universally  popular,  and  we  see  in  the 
fact  a  tribute  to  our  valuable  qualities. 

I  venture  to  mention  these  family  virtues  and 
characteristics  because  it  has  been  thought  in 
some  quarters  that  I  displayed  them  but  to  a 
very  slight  degree  in  the  course  of  the  expedi- 


12      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

tion  on  which  I  was  now  embarked.  The 
impression  is  a  mistaken  one.  As  I  have  said 
before,  I  did  nothing  that  was  not  forced  upon 
me.  Any  of  my  ancestors  would,  I  am  sure, 
have  done  the  same,  had  they  chanced  to  be 
thrown  under  similar  circumstances  into  the 
society  of  Mine,  de  Saint-Maclou  and  of  the 
other  persons  whom  I  was  privileged  to  meet ; 
and  had  those  other  persons  happened  to  act  in 
the  manner  in  which  they  did  when  I  fell  in 
with  them. 

Gustave  maintained  his  gayety  and  good 
spirits  unabated  through  the  trials  of  our  voyage 
to  Cherbourg.  The  mild  mystery  that  attended 
our  excursion  was  highly  to  his  taste.  He  in- 
sisted on  our  coming  without  servants.  He 
persuaded  me  to  leave  no  address  ;  obliged  to 
keep  himself  within  touch  of  the  Embassy,  he 
directed  letters  to  be  sent  to  Avranches,  where, 
he  explained,  he  could  procure  them  ;  for,  as  he 
thought  it  safe  to  disclose  when  a  dozen  miles 
of  sea  separated  us  from  the  possibility  of  curi- 
ous listeners,  the  house  to  which  we  were  bound 
stood  about  ten  miles  distant  from  that  town, 
in  a  retired  and  somewhat  desolate  bit  of  coun- 
try lining  the  seashore. 

"  My  sister  says  it  is  the  most  triste  place  in 
the  world,"  said  he;  "  but  we  shall  change  all 
that  when  we  arrive." 

There  was  nothing  to  prevent  our  arriving 
very  soon  to  relieve  Mile,  de  Berensac's  depres- 
sion, for  the  middle  of  the  next  day  found  us  at 
Avranches,  and  we  spent  the  afternoon  wander- 
ing about  somewhat  aimlessly  and  staring  across 


SIGNIFICANCE  OF  A    SUPPER-TABLE.        13 

the  bay  at  the  mass  of  Mont  St.  Michel. 
Directly  beneath  us  as  we  stood  on  the  hill,  and 
lying  in  a  straight  line  with  the  Mount,  there 
was  a  large  square  white  house,  on  the  very 
edge  of  the  stretching  sand.  We  were  told  that 
it  was  a  convent. 

"  But  the  whole  place  is  no  livelier  than  one," 
said  I,  yawning.  "  My  dear  fellow,  why  don't 
we  go  on  ?  " 

"  It  is  right  for  you  to  see  this  interesting 
town,"  answered  Gustave  gravely,  but  with  a 
merry  gleam  in  his  eye.  "  However,  I  have 
ordered  a  carriage,  so  be  patient." 

"  For  what  time  ?  " 

"  Nine  o'clock,  when  we  have  dined." 

"  We  are  to  get  there  in  the  dark,  then  ?  " 

"  What  reason  is  there  against  that  ? "  he 
asked,  smiling. 

"  None,"  said  I ;  and  I  went  to  pack  up  my 
bag. 

In  my  room  I  chanced  to  find  ^femme-de- 
chambre.  To  her  I  put  a  question  or  two  as 
to  the  gentry  of  the  neighborhood.  She  rattled 
me  off  a  few  distinguished  names,  and  ended  : 

"  The  duke  of  Saint-Maclou  has  also  a  small 
chdteau" 

"  Is  he  there  now  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  The  duchess  only,  sir,"  she  answered. 
"  Ah,  they  tell  wonderful  stories  of  her  ! " 

"  Do  they  ?     Pray,  of  what  kind  ?  " 

"Oh,  not  to  her  harm,  sir;  or,  at  least,  not 
exactly,  though  to  simple  country-folk " 

The  national  shrug  was  an  appropriate  ending. 

"  And  the  duke  ?  " 


14      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  He  is  a  good  man,"  she  answered  earnestly, 
"  and  a  very  clever  man.  He  is  very  highly 
thought  of  at  Paris,  sir." 

I  had  hoped,  secretly,  to  hear  that  he  was 
a  villain  ;  but  he  was  a  good  man.  It  was  a 
scurvy  trick  to  play  on  a  good  man.  Well, 
there  was  no  help  for  it.  I  packed  my  bag 
with  some  dawning  misgivings ;  the  chamber- 
maid, undisturbed  by  my  presence,  went  on 
rubbing  the  table  with  some  strong-smelling 
furniture  polish. 

"  At  least,"  she  observed,  as  though  there 
had  been  no  pause,  "  he  gives  much  to  the 
church  and  to  the  poor." 

"It  may  be  repentance,"  said  I,  looking  up 
with  a  hopeful  air. 

"  It  is  possible,  sir." 

"  Or,"  cried  I,  with  a  smile,  "  hypocrisy?  " 

The  chambermaid's  shake  of  her  head  re- 
fused to  accept  this  idea;  but  my  conscience, 
fastening  on  it,  found  rest.  I  hesitated  no 
longer.  The'  man  was  a  cunning  hypocrite.  I 
would  go  on  cheerfully,  secure  that  he  deserved 
all  the  bamboozling  which  the  duchess  and  my 
friend  Gustave  might  prepare  for  him. 

At  nine  o'clock,  as  Gustave  had  arranged, 
we  started  in  a  heavy  carriage  drawn  by  two 
great  white  horses  and  driven  by  a  stolid  fat 
hostler.  Slowly  we  jogged  along  under  the 
stars,  St.  Michel  being  our  continual  companion 
on  the  right  hand,  as  we  followed  the  road 
round  the  bay.  When  we  had  gone  five  or  six 
miles,  we  turned  suddenly  inland.  There  were 
banks  on  each  side  of  the  road  now,  and  we 


SIGNIFICANCE  OF  A   SUPPER-TABLE.        1 5 

were  going  uphill ;  for  rising  out  of  the  plain 
there  was  a  sudden  low7  spur  of  higher  ground. 

"  Is  the  house  at  the  top  ?  "  I  asked  Gustave. 

"  Just  under  the  top,"  said  he. 

"  I  shall  walk,"  said  I. 

The  fact  is,  I  had  grown  intolerably  impatient 
of  our  slow  jog,  which  had  now  sunk  to  a  walk. 

We  jumped  out  and  strode  on  ahead,  soon 
distancing  our  carriage,  and  waking  echoes 
with  our  merry  talk. 

"  I  rather  wonder  they  have  not  come  to  meet 
us,"  said  Gustave.  "  See,  there  is  the  house." 

A  sudden  turn  in  the  road  had  brought  us 
in  sight  of  it.  It  was  a  rather  small  modern 
Gothic  chateau.  It  nestled  comfortably  below 
the  hill,  which  rose  very  steeply  immediately 
behind  it.  The  road  along  which  we  were  ap- 
proaching appeared  to  afford  the  only  access, 
and  no  other  house  was  visible.  But,  desolate 
as  the  spot  certainly  was,  the  house  itself  pre- 
sented a  gay  appearance,  for  there  were  lights 
in  every  window  from  ground  to  roof. 

"  She  seems  to  have  company,"  I  observed. 

"  It  is  that  she  expects  us,"  answered 
Gustave.  "  This  illumination  is  in  our  honor." 

"  Come  on,"  said  I,  quickening  my  pace ; 
and  Gustave  burst  out  laughing. 

"  I  knew  you  would  catch  fire  when  once  I 
got  you  started  !  "  he  cried. 

Suddenly  a  voice  struck  on  rny  ear — a  clear, 
pleasant  voice : 

"  Was  he  slow  to  catch  fire,  my  dear 
Gustave  ?  " 

I  started.     Gustave  looked  round. 


1 6      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  It  is  she,"  he  said.     "  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  Was  he  slow  to  catch  fire  ? "  asked  the 
voice  again.  "  Well,  he  has  but  just  come  near 
the  flame  " — and  a  laugh  followed  the  words. 

"  Slow  to  light  is  long  to  burn,"  said  I,  turn- 
ing to  the  bank  on  the  left  side  of  the  road,  for 
it  was  thence  that  the  voice  came. 

A  moment  later  a  little  figure  in  white  darted 
down  into  the  road,  laughing  and  panting. 
She  seized  Gystave's  hand. 

"  I  ran  so  hard  to  meet  you  ! "  she  cried. 

"  And  have  you  brought  Claire  with  you  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  Present  your  friend  to  me,"  commanded 
the  duchess,  as  though  she  had  not  heard  his 
question. 

Did  I  permit  myself  to  guess  at  such  things, 
I  should  have  guessed  the  duchess  to  be  about 
twenty-five  years  old.  She  was  not  tall ;  her 
hair  was  a  dark  brown,  and  the  color  in  her 
cheeks  rich  but  subdued.  She  moved  with 
extraordinary  grace  and  agility,  and  seemed 
never  at  rest.  The  one  term  of  praise  (if  it  be 
one,  which  I  sometimes  incline  to  doubt)  that 
I  have  never  heard  applied  to  her  is — dignified. 

"  It  is  most  charming  of  you  to  come,  Mr. 
Aycon,"  said  she.  "  I've  heard  so  much  of 
you,  and  you'll  be  so  terribly  dull ! " 

"  With  yourself,  madame,  and  Mile,  de 
Berensac " 

"  Oh,  of  course  you  must  say  that !  "  she 
interrupted.  "  But  come  along,  supper  is 
ready.  How  delightful  to  have  supper  again ! 
I'm  never  in  good  enough  spirits  to  have  supper 


SIGNIFICANCE  OF  A   SUPPER-TABLE.        17 

when  I'm  alone.  You'll  be  terribly  uncomfort- 
able, gentlemen.  The  whole  household  con- 
sists of  an  old  man  and  five  women — counting 
myself." 

"  And  are  they  all ?  "  began  Gustave. 

"  Discreet  ?  "  she  asked,  interrupting  again. 
"  Oh,  they  will  not  tell  the  truth !  Never  fear, 
my  dear  Gustave  ! " 

"  What  news  of  the  duke  ?  "  asked  he,  as  we 
began  to  walk,  the  duchess  stepping  a  little 
ahead  of  us. 

"  Oh,  the  best,"  said  she,  with  a  nod  over 
her  shoulder.  "  None,  you  know.  That's  one 
of  your  proverbs,  Mr.  Aycon  ?  " 

"Even  a  proverb  is  true  sometimes,"  I 
ventured  to  remark. 

We  reached  the  house  and  passed  through 
the  door,  which  stood  wide  open.  Crossing 
the  hall,  we  found  ourselves  in  a  small  square 
room,  furnished  with  rose-colored  hangings. 
Here  supper  was  spread.  Gustave  walked  up 
to  the  table.  The  duchess  flung  herself  into 
an  armchair.  She  had  taken  her  handkerchief 
out  of  her  pocket,  and  she  held  it  in  front  of 
her  lips  and  seemed  to  be  biting  it.  Her  eye- 
brows were  raised,  and  her  face  displayed  a 
comical  mixture  of  amusement  and  apprehen- 
sion. A  glance  of  her  eyes  at  me  invited  me 
to  share  the  perilous  jest,  in  which  Gustave's 
demeanor  appeared  to  bear  the  chief  part. 

Gustave  stood  by  the  table,  regarding  it  with 
a  puzzled  air. 

«  One — two — three  !  "  he  exclaimed  aloud, 
counting  the  covers  laid. 


1 8      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

The  duchess  said  nothing,  but  her  eyebrows 
mounted  a  little  higher,  till  they  almost  reached 
her  clustering  hair. 

"  One — two — three  ?  "  repeated  Gu stave,  in 
unmistakable  questioning.  "  Does  Claire  re- 
main upstairs  ?  " 

Appeal  —  amusement  —  fright — shame  — tri- 
umph— chased  one  another  across  the  eyes  of 
Mme.  de  Saint-Maclou  :  each  made  so  swift 
an  appearance,  so  swift  an  exit,  that  they  seemed 
to  blend  in  some  peculiar  personal  emotion 
proper  to  the  duchess  and  to  no  other  woman 
born.  And  she  bit  the  handkerchief  harder 
than  ever.  For  the  life  of  me  I  couldn't  help 
it ;  I  began  to  laugh  ;  the  duchess'  face  dis- 
appeared altogether  behind  the  handkerchief. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  Claire's  not  here  ?  " 
cried  Gustave,  turning  on  her  swiftly  and 
accusingly. 

The  head  behind  the  handkerchief  was 
shaken,  first  timidly,  then  more  emphatically, 
and  a  stifled  voice  vouchsafed  the  news  : 

"  She  left  three  days  ago." 

Gustave  and  I  looked  at  one  another.  There 
was  a  pause.  At  last  I  drew  a  chair  back  from 
the  table,  and  said  : 

"  If  madame  is  ready " 

The  duchess  whisked  her  handkerchief  away 
and  sprang  up.  She  gave  one  look  at  Gustave's 
grave  face,  and  then,  bursting  into  a  merry 
laugh,  caught  me  by  the  arm,  crying : 

"  Isn't  it  fun,  Mr.  Aycon  ?  There's  nobody 
but  me  !  Isn't  it  fun  ?  " 


CHAPTER   III. 
Gbe  •anexpectefc  tbat  BlwaB0  Ibappenefc. 


f|VERYTHING  depends  on  the  point 
of  view  and  is  rich  in  varying  aspects, 
A  picture  is  sublime  from  one  corner 
of  the  room,  a  daub  from  another  ; 
a  woman's  full  face  may  be  perfect,  her  profile 
a  disappointment  ;  above  all,  what  you  admire 
in  yourself  becomes  highly  distasteful  in  your 
neighbor.  The  moral  is,  I  suppose,  Tolerance  ; 
or  if  not  that,  something  else  which  has  escaped 
me. 

When  the  duchess  said  that  "  it  "  —  by  which 
she  meant  the  whole  position  of  affairs  —  was 
"  fun/'  I  laughed  ;  on  the  other  hand,  Gustave 
de  Berensac,  after  one  astonished  stare,  walked 
to  the  hall  door. 

"  Where  is  my  carriage  ?  "  we  heard  him 
ask. 

"  It  has  started  on  the  way  back  three  min- 
utes ago,  sir." 

"  Fetch  it  back." 

"  Sir  !  The  driver  will  gallop  down  the  hill  ; 
he  could  not  be  overtaken." 

"  How  fortunate  !  "  said  I. 

"  I   do   not   see,"   observed   Mme.  de  Saint- 
Maclou,"  that  it  makes  all  that  difference." 
19 


20      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

She  seemed  hurt  at  the  serious  way  in  which 
Gustave  took  her  joke. 

"  If  I  had  told  the  truth,  you  wouldn't  have 
come,"  she  said  in  justification. 

"  Not  another  word  is  necessary,  "said  I,  with 
a  bow. 

"  Then  let  us  sup,"  said  the  duchess,  and  she 
took  the  armchair  at  the  head  of  the  table. 

We  began  to  eat  and  drink,  serving  ourselves. 
Presently  Gustave  entered,  stood  regarding  us 
for  a  moment,  and  then  flung  himself  into  the 
third  chair  and  poured  out  a  glass  of  wine. 
The  duchess  took  no  notice  of  him. 

"  Mile,  de  Berensac  was  called  away  ? "  I 
suggested. 

"She  was  called  away,"  answered  the 
duchess. 

"  Suddenly  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  duchess,  her  eyes  again  full 
of  complicated  expressions.  I  laughed.  Then 
she  broke  out  in  a  plaintive  cry:  "Oh!  were 
you  ever  dying — dying — dying  of  weariness  ?  " 

Gustave  made  no  reply;  the  frown  on  his 
face  persisted. 

"  Isn't  it  a  pity,"  I  asked,  "  to  wreck  a  pleas- 
ant party  for  the  sake  of  a  fine  distinction? 
The  presence  of  Mile,  de  Berensac  would  have 
infinitely  increased  our  pleasure ;  but  how  would 
it  have  diminished  our  crime  ?  " 

"  I  wish  I  had  known  you  sooner,  Mr. 
Aycon,"  said  the  duchess ;  "  then  I  needn't 
have  asked  him  at  all." 

I  bowed,  but  I  was  content  with  things  as 
they  were.  The  duchess  sat  with  the  air  of  a 


UNEXPECTED  THA  T  ALWAYS  HAPPENED.  21 

child  who  has  been  told  that  she  is  naughty, 
but  declines  to  accept  the  statement.  I  was 
puzzled  at  the  stern  morality  exhibited  by  my 
friend  Gustave.  His  next  remark  threw  some 
light  on  his  feelings. 

"  Heavens  !  if  it  became  known,  what  would 
be  thought  ?  "  he  demanded  suddenly. 

"  If  one  thinks  of  what  is  thought,"  said  the 
duchess  with  a  shrug,  "  one  is " 

"  A  fool,"  said  I,  "  or — a  lover!  " 

"Ah  !"  cried  the  duchess,  a  smile  coming  on 
her  lips.  "  If  it  is  that,  I'll  forgive  you,  my 
dear  Gustave.  Whose  good  opinion  do  you 
fear  to  lose  ?  " 

"  I  write,"  said  Gustave,  with  a  rhetorical 
gesture,  "  to  say  that  I  am  going  to  the  house 
of  some  friends  to  meet  my  sister !  " 

"  Oh,  you  write  ?  "  we  murmured. 

"  My  sister  writes  to  say  she  is  not  there ! " 

"  Oh,  she  writes  ?  "  we  murmured  again. 

"  And  it  is  thought " 

"  By  whom  ?  "  asked  the  duchess. 

"  By  Lady  Cynthia  Chillingdon,"  said  I. 

"  That  it  is  a  trick — a  device — a  deceit !  " 
continued  poor  Gustave. 

"  It  was  decidedly  indiscreet  of  you  to  come," 
said  the  duchess  reprovingly.  "  How  was  I  to 
know  about  Lady  Cynthia?  If  I  had  known 
about  Lady  Cynthia,  I  would  not  have  asked 
you ;  I  would  have  asked  Mr.  Aycon  only.  Or 
perhaps  you  also,  Mr.  Aycon "  • 

"  Madame,"  said  I, "  I  am  alone  in  the  world." 

"  Where  has  Claire  gone  to  ?  "  asked  Gustave. 

"  Paris,"  pouted  the  duchess. 


22      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

Gustave  rose,  flinging  his  napkin  on  the  table. 

"  I  shall  follow  her  to-morrow,"  he  said.  "  I 
suppose  you'll  go  back  to  England,  Gilbert  ?  " 

If  Gustave  left  us,  it  was  my  unhesitating 
resolve  to  return  to  England. 

"  I  suppose  I  shall,"  said  I. 

"  I  suppose  you  must,"  said  the  duchess 
ruefully.  "Oh,  isn't  it  exasperating?  I  had 
planned  it  all  so  delightfully  !  " 

"  If  you  had  told  the  truth "  began 

Gustave. 

"  I  should  not  have  had  a  preacher  to 
supper,"  said  the  duchess  sharply ;  then  she 
fell  to  laughing  again. 

"  Is  Mile,  de  Berensac  irrecoverable  ? "  I 
suggested. 

"  Why,  yes.  She  has  gone  to  take  her  turn 
of  attendance  on  your  rich  old  aunt,  Gustave." 

I  think  that  there  was  a  little  malice  in  the 
duchess'  way  of  saying  this. 

There  seemed  nothing  more  to  be  done.  The 
duchess  herself  did  not  propose  to  defy  conven- 
tionality to  the  extent  of  inviting  me  to  stay. 
To  do  her  justice,  as  soon  as  the  inevitable  was 
put  before  her,  she  accepted  it  with  good  grace, 
and,  after  supper,  busied  herself  in  discovering 
the  time  and  manner  in  which  her  guests  might 
pursue  their  respective  journeys.  I  may  be 
flattering  myself,  but  I  thought  that  she  dis- 
played a  melancholy  satisfaction  on  discovering 
that  Gustave  de  Berensac  must  leave  at  ten 
o'clock  the  next  morning,  whereas  I  should  be 
left  to  kick  my  heels  in  idleness  at  Cherbourg 
if  I  set  out  before  five  in  the  afternoon. 


UNEXPECTED  THA  T  ALWAYS  HAPPENED.   23 

"  Oh,  you  can  spend  the  time  en  route"  said 
Gustave.  "  It  will  be  better." 

The  duchess  looked  at  me ;  I  looked  at  the 
duchess. 

"My  dear  Gustave,"  said  I,  "you  are  very 
considerate.  You  could  not  do  more  if  I  also 
were  in  love  with  Lady  Cynthia." 

"  Nor,"  said  the  duchess,  "  if  I  were  quite 
unfit  to  be  spoken  to." 

"  If  my  remaining  till  the  afternoon  will  not 
weary  the  duchess "  said  I. 

"  The  duchess  will  endure  it,"  said  she,  with 
a  nod  and  a  smile. 

Thus  it  was  settled,  a  shake  of  the  head  con- 
veying Gustave's  judgment.  And  soon  after, 
Mme.  de  Saint-Maclou  bade  us  good-night. 
Tired  with  my  journey,  and  (to  tell  the  truth)  a 
little  out  of  humor  with  my  friend,  I  was  not 
long  in  seeking  my  bed.  At  the  top  of  the 
stairs  a  group  of  three  girls  were  gossiping; 
one  of  them  handed  me  a  candle  and  flung 
open  the  door  of  my  room  with  a  roguish  smile 
on  her  broad  good-tempered  face. 

"  One  of  the  greatest  virtues  of  women,"  said 
I,  pausing  on  the  threshold,  "  is  fidelity." 

"  We  are  devoted  to  Mme.  la  Duchesse,"  said 
the  girl. 

"  Another,  hardly  behind  it,  is  discretion,"  I 
continued. 

"  Madame  inculcates  it  on  us  daily,"  said  she. 

I  took  out  a  napoleon. 

"  Ladies,"  said  I,  placing  the  napoleon  in  the 
girl's  hand,  "  I  am  obliged  for  your  kind  atten- 
tions. Good-night ! "  and  I  shut  the  door  on 


24      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

the  sound  of  a  pleased,  excited  giggling.  I  love 
to  hear  such  sounds  ;  they  make  me  laugh  my- 
self, for  joy  that  this  old  world,  in  spite  of 
everything,  holds  so  much  merriment ;  and  to 
their  jovial  lullaby  I  fell  asleep. 

Moreover — the  duchess  teaching  discretion ! 
There  can  have  been  nothing  like  it  since  Baby 
Chafles  and  Steenie  conversed  within  the  hear- 
ing of  King  James  !  But,  then  discretion  has 
two  meanings — whereof  the  one  is  "  Do  it  not," 
and  the  other  "Tell  it  not."  Considering  of 
this  ambiguity,  I  acquitted  the  duchess  of 
hypocrisy. 

At  ten  o'clock  the.  next  morning  we  got  rid 
of  my  dear  friend  Gustave  de  Berensac.  Candor 
compels  me  to  put  the  statement  in  that  form  ; 
for  the  gravity  which  had  fallen  upon  him  the 
night  before  endured  till  the  morning,  and  he 
did  not  flinch  from  administering  something 
very  like  a  lecture  to  his  hostess.  His  last 
words  were  an  invitation  to  me  to  get  into  the 
carriage  and  start  with  him.  When  I  suavely 
declined,  he  told  me  that  I  should  regret  it. 
It  comforts'  me  to  think  that  his  prophecy, 
though  more  than  once  within  an  ace  of  the 
most  ample  fulfillment,  yet  in  the  end  was  set 
at  naught  by  the  events  which  followed. 

Gustave  rolled  down  the  hill,  the  duchess 
sighed  relief. 

"  Now,"  said  she,  "  we  can  enjoy  ourselves 
for  a  few  hours,  Mr.  Aycon.  And  after  that — 
solitude !  " 

I  was  really  very  sorry  for  the  duchess.  Evi- 
dently society  and  gayety  were  necessary  as 


UNEXPECTED  THA  T  ALWA  YS  HAPPENED.  25 

food  and  air  to  her,  and  her  churl  of  a  husband 
denied  them.  My  opportunity  was  short,  but  I 
laid  myself  out  to  make  the  most  of  it.  I  could 
give  her  nothing  more  than  a  pleasant  memory, 
but  I  determined  to  do  that. 

We  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  day  in  a 
ramble  through  the  woods  that  lined  the  slopes 
of  the  hill  behind  the  house;  and  all  through 
the  hours  the  duchess  chatted  about  herself, 
her  life,  her  family — and  then  about  the  duke. 
If  the  hints  she  gave  were  to  be  trusted,  her 
husband  deserved  little  consideration  at  her 
hands,  and,  at  the  worst,  the  plea  of  reprisal 
might  offer  some  excuse  for  her,  if  she  had  need 
of  one.  But  she  denied  the  need,  and  here  I 
was  inclined  to  credit  her.  For  with  me,  as 
with  Gustave  de  Berensac  before  the  shadow 
of  Lady  Cynthia  came  between,  she  was,  most 
distinctly,  a  "  good  comrade."  Sentiment 
made  no  appearance  in  our  conversation,  and, 
as  the  day  ruthlessly  wore  on,  I  regretted 
honestly  that  I  must  go  in  deference  to  a  con- 
ventionality which  seemed,  in  this  case  at  least 
— Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  indulge  in  general 
theories — to  mask  no  reality.  Yet  she  was  de- 
lightful by  virtue  of  the  vitality  in  her  ;  and  the 
woods  echoed  again  and  again  with  our  laughter. 

At  four  o'clock  we  returned  sadly  to  the 
house,  where  the  merry  girls  busied  themselves 
in  preparing  a  repast  for  me.  The  duchess  in- 
sisted on  sharing  my  meal. 

"  I  shall  go  supperless  to  bed  to-night,"  said 
she  ;  and  we  sat  down  glum  as  two  children 
going  back  to  school. 


26      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

Suddenly  there  Was  a  commotion  outside  ; 
the  girls  were  talking  to  one  another  in  rapid 
eager  tones.  The  duchess  raised  her  head, 
listening.  Then  she  turned  to  me,  asking  : 

"  Can  you  hear  what  they  say  ?  " 

"  I  can  distinguish  nothing  except  '  Quick, 
quick  ! ' ' 

As  I  spoke  the  door  was  thrown  open,  and 
two  rushed  in,  the  foremost  saying : 

"  Again,  madame,  again  !  " 

"  Impossible  ! "  exclaimed  the  duchess,  start- 
ing up. 

"  No,  it  is  true.  Jean  was  out,  snaring  a 
rabbit,  and  caught  sight  of  the  carriage." 

"  What  carriage  ?  Whose  carriage  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"Why,  my  husband's,"  said  the  duchess, 
quite  calmly.  "  It  is  a  favorite  trick  of  his  to 
surprise  us.  But  Algeria  !  We  thought  we 
were  safe  with  Algeria.  He  must  travel  under- 
ground like  a  mole,  Suzanne,  or  we  should 
have  heard." 

"  Oh,  one  hears  nothing  here  ! " 

"  And  what,"  said  the  duchess,  "  are  we  to  do 
with  Mr.  Aycon  ?  " 

"  I  can  solve  that,"  I  observed.     "  I'm  off." 

"  But  he'll  see  you  !  "  cried  the  girl.  "  He  is 
but  a  half-mile  off." 

"  Mr.  Aycon  could  take  the  side-path,"  said 
the  duchess. 

"  The  duke  would  see  him  before  he  reached 
it,"  said  the  girl.  "  He  would  be  in  sight  for 
nearly  fifty  yards." 

"  Couldn't  I  hide  in  the  bushes  ?  "  I  asked. 


UNEXPECTED  THA  T  ALWAYS  HAPPENED,   27 

"  I  hate  anything  that  looks  suspicious,"  re- 
marked the  duchess,  still  quite  calm  ;  "  and  if 
he  happened  to  see  you,  it  would  look  rather 
suspicious  !  And  he  has  got  eyes  like  a  cat's 
for  anything  of  that  sort." 

There  was  no  denying  that  it  would  look 
suspicious  if  I  were  caught  hiding  in  the  bushes. 
I  sat  silent,  having  no  other  suggestion  to  make. 

Suzanne,  with  a  readiness  not  born,  I  hope, 
of  practice,  came  to  the  rescue  with  a  clever 
suggestion. 

"  The  English  groom  whom  madame  dis- 
missed a  week  ago "  said  she.  "  Why  should 

not  the  gentleman  pass  as  the  groom  ?  The 
man  would  not  take  his  old  clothes  away,  for 
he  had  bought  new  ones,  and  they  are  still 
here.  The  gentleman  would  put  them  on  and 
walk  past — voila" 

"  Can  you  look  like  a  groom  ?  "  asked  the 
duchess.  "  If  he  speaks  to  you,  make  your 
French  just  a  little  worse  " — and  she  smiled. 

They  were  all  so  calm  and  businesslike  that 
it  would  have  seemed  disobliging  and  absurd 
to  make  difficulties. 

"  We  can  send  your  luggage  soon,  you  know," 
said  the  duchess.  "  You  had  better  hide  Mr. 
Aycon's  luggage  in  your  room,  Suzanne. 
Really,  I  am  afraid  you  ought  to  be  getting 
ready,  Mr.  Aycon." 

The  point  of  view  again  !  By  virtue  of  the 
duchess'  calmness  and  Suzanne's  cool  readi- 
ness, the  proceeding  seemed  a  most  ordinary 
one.  Five  minutes  later  I  presented  myself  to 
the  duchess,  dressed  in  a  villainous  suit  of 


28      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

clothes,  rather  too  tight  for  me,  and  wearing 
a  bad  hat  rakishly  cocked  over  one  eye.  The 
duchess  surveyed  me  with  great  curiosity. 

"  Fortunately  the  duke  is  not  a  very  clever 
man,"  said  she.  "  Oh,  by  the  way,  your  name's 
George  Sampson,  and  you  come  from  Newmar- 
ket ;  and  you  are  leaving  because  you  took 
more  to  drink  than  was  good  for  you.  Good- 
by,  Mr.  Aycon.  I  do  hope  that  we  shall  meet 
again  under  pleasanter  circumstances." 

"They  could  not  be  pleasanter — but  they 
might  be  more  prolonged,"  said  I. 

"  It  was  so  good  of  you  to  come,"  she  said, 
pressing  my  hand. 

"  The  carriage  is  but  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off ! " 
cried  Suzanne  warningly. 

"  How  very  annoying  it  is  !  I  wish  to  Heaven 
the  Algerians  had  eaten  the  duke  ! " 

"  I  shall  not  forget  my  day  here,"  I  assured 
her. 

"You  won't?  It's  charming  of  you.  Oh, 
how  dull  it  will  be  now !  It  only  wanted  the 
arrival  of Well,  good-by ! " 

And  with  a  final  and  long  pressure  of  the 
duchess'  hand,  I,  in  the  garb  and  personality  of 
George  Sampson,  dismissed  for  drunkenness, 
walked  out  of  the  gate  of  the  chdteau. 

"  One  thing,"  I  observed  to  myself  as  I 
started,  "  would  seem  highly  probable — and 
that  is,  that  this  sort  of  thing  has  happened 
before." 

The  idea  did  not  please  me.  I  like  to  do 
things  first. 


CHAPTER  IV. 
tTbe  Bucbess  Detlnee  1ber  position. 

WALKED  on  at  a  leisurely  pace ; 
the  heavy  carriage  was  very  near  the 
top  of  the  hill.  In  about  three  minutes' 
time  we  met.  There  sat  alone  in  the 
carriage  a  tall  dark  man,  with  a  puffy  white 
face,  a  heavy  mustache,  and  stern  cold  eyes. 
He  was  smoking  a  cigar.  I  plucked  my  hat 
from  my  head  and  made  as  if  to  pass  by. 

"  Who's  this  ?  "  he  called  out,  stopping  the 
carriage. 

I  began  to  recite  my  lesson  in  stumbling 
French. 

"  Why,  what  are  you  ?  Oh,  you're  English  ! 
Then,  in  Heaven's  name,  speak  English — not 
that  gabble."  And  then  he  repeated  his  order, 
"  Speak  English,"  in  English,  and  continued  in 
that  language,  which  he  spoke  with  stiff  forrnal 
corectness. 

He  heard  my  account  of  myself  with  unmoved 
face. 

"  Have  you  any  writings— any  testimonials  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  No,  my  lord,"  I  stammered,  addressing  him 
in  the  style  I  thought  most  natural  to  my 
assumed  character. 


30      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  That's  a  little  curious,  isn't  it  ?  You  be- 
come intoxicated  everywhere,  perhaps  ?  " 

"I've  never  been  intoxicated  in  my  life,  my 
lord,"  said  I,  humbly  but  firmly. 

"  Then  you  dispute  the  justice  of  your  dis- 
missal ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lord."  I  thought  such  protest  due 
to  my  original. 

He  looked  at  me  closely,  smoking  his  cigar 
the  while. 

"  You  made  love  to  the  chambermaids  ?  "  he 
asked  suddenly. 

"  No,  my  lord.  One  evening,  my  lord,  it  was 
very  hot,  and — and  the  wine,  my  lord " 

"  Then  you  were  intoxicated  ?  " 

I  fumbled  with  my  hat,  praying  that  the  fel- 
low would  move  on. 

"  What  servants  are  there  ?  "  he  asked,  point- 
ing to  the  house. 

"Four  maids,  my  lord,  and  old  Jean." 

Again  he  meditated ;  then  he  said  sharply  : 

"  Have  you  ever  waited  at  table  ?  " 

We  have  all,  I  suppose,  waited  at  table — in 
one  sense.  Perhaps  that  may  save  my  remark 
from  untruth. 

"  Now  and  then,  my  lord,"  I  answered,  won- 
dering what  he  would  be  at. 

"  I  have  guests  arriving  to-morrow,"  he  said. 
"  My  man  comes  with  them,  but  the  work  will 
perhaps  be  too  much  for  him.  Are  you  willing 
to  stay  and  help  ?  I  will  pay  you  the  same 
wages." 

I  could  have  laughed  in  his  face  ;  but  duty 
seemed  to  point  to  seriousness. 


THE  DUCHESS  DEFINES  HER  POSITION.     31 

"  I'm  very  sorry,  my  lord "  I  began. 

"  What,  have  you  got  another  place  ?  " 

"  No,  my  lord  ;  not  exactly." 

"  Then  get  up  on  the  front  seat.  Or  do  you 
want  your  employers  to  say  you  are  disobliging 
as  well  as  drunken  ?  " 

"  But  the  lady  sent  me " 

"  You  may  leave  that  to  me.  Come,  jump  up  ! 
Don't  keep  me  waiting!" 

Doubtfully  I  stood  in  the  road,  the  duke  glar- 
ing at  me  with  impatient  anger.  Then  he 
leaned  forward  and  said  : 

"  You  are  curiously  reluctant,  sir,  to  earn 
your  living.  I  don't  understand  it.  I  must 
make  some  inquiries  about  you." 

I  detected  suspicion  dawning  in  his  eyes. 
He  was  a  great  man  ;  I  did  not  know  what 
hindrances  he  might  not  be  able  to  put  in  the 
way  of  my  disappearance.  And  what  would 
happen  if  he  made  his  inquiries  ?  Inquiries 
might  mean  searching,  and  I  carried  a  passport 
in  the  name  of  Gilbert  Aycon. 

Such  share  had  prudence ;  the  rest  must  be 
put  down  to  the  sudden  impulse  of  amusement 
which  seized  me.  It  was  but  for  a  day  or  two  ! 
Then  I  could  steal  away.  Meanwhile  what 
would  not  the  face  of  the  duchess  say,  when 
I  rode  up  on  the  front  seat ! 

"  I — I  was  afraid  I  should  not  give  satisfac- 
tion," I  muttered. 

"  You  probably  won't,"  said  he.  "  I  take  you 
from  necessity,  not  choice,  my  friend.  Up 
with  you !  " 

And  I  got  up  beside  the  driver — not,  luckily, 


32      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

the  one  who  had  brought  Gustave  de  Berensac 
and  myself  the  day  before — and  the  carriage 
resumed  its  slow  climb  up  the  hill. 

We  stopped  at  the  door.  I  jumped  down 
and  assisted  my  new  master. 

The  door  was  shut.  Nobody  was  to  be 
seen;  evidently  we  were  not  expected.  The 
duke  smiled  sardonically,  opened  the  door  and 
walked  in,  I  just  behind.  Suzanne  was  sweep- 
ing the  floor.  With  one  glance  at  the  duke 
and  myself,  she  sprang  back,  with  a  cry  of 
most  genuine  surprise. 

"  Oh,  you're  mighty  surprised,  aren't  you  ?  " 
sneered  the  duke.  "Old  Jean  didn't  scuttle 
away  to  tell  you  then  ?  You  keep  a  good 
watch,  young  woman.  Your  mistress'  orders, 
eh  ?  " 

Still  Suzanne  stared — and  at  me.  The  duke 
chuckled. 

"  Yes,  he's  back  again,"  said  he,  "  so  you 
must  make  the  best  of  it,  my  girl.  Where's 
the  duchess  ?  " 

"  In — in — in   her  sitting-room,  M.   le  Due." 

"  *  In — in — in,'  "  he  echoed  mockingly.  Then 
he  stepped  swiftly  across  the  hall  and  flung 
the  door  suddenly  open.  I  believe  he  thought 
that  he  really  had  surprised  the  duchess  this 
time,  in  spite  of  Jean's  slow  aged  scamper 
ahead  of  him. 

"  Silence  for  your  life  ! "  I  had  time  to  whis- 
per to  Suzanne ;  and  then  I  followed  him. 
There  might  be  more  "  fun  "  to  come. 

The  duchess  was  sitting  with  a  book  in  her 
hand.  I  was  half-hidden  by  the  duke,  and 


THE  DUCHESS  DEFINES  HER  POSITION.     33 

she  did  not  see  me.  She  looked  up,  smiled, 
yawned,  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  I  hardly  expected  you,  Armand,"  said  she. 
"  I  thought  you  were  in  Algeria." 

Anybody  would  have  been  annoyed  ;  there  is 
no  doubt  that  the  Duke  of  Saint-Maclou  was 
very  much  annoyed. 

"  You  don't  seem  overjoyed  at  the  surprise," 
said  he  gruffly. 

"  You  are  always  surprising  me,"  she 
answered,  lifting  her  eyebrows. 

Suddenly  he  turned  round,  saying  "  Samp- 
son !  "  and  then  turned  to  her,  adding : 

"  Here's  another  old  friend  for  you."  And 
he  seized  me  by  the  shoulder  and  pulled  me 
into  the  room. 

The  duchess  sprang  to  her  feet,  crying  out  in 
startled  tones,  "  Back  ?  " 

I  kept  my  eyes  glued  to  the  floor,  wondering 
what  would  happen  next,  thinking  that  it  would 
be,  likely  enough,  a  personal  conflict  with  my 
master. 

"  Yes,  back,"  said  he.  "  I  am  sorry,  madame, 
if  it  is  not  your  pleasure,  for  it  chances  to  be 
mine." 

His  sneer  gave  the  duchess  a  moment's  time. 
I  felt  her  regarding  me,  and  I  looked  up 
cautiously.  The  duke  still  stood  half  a  pace 
in  front  of  me,  and  the  message  of  my  glance 
sped  past  him  unperceived. 

Then  came  what  I  had  looked  for — the 
gradual  dawning  of  the  position  on  the  duchess, 
and  the  reflection  of  that  dawning  light  in  those 
wonderful  eyes  of  hers.  She  clasped  her  hands, 


34      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

and  drew  in  her  breath  in  a  long  "  Oh  !  "  It 
spoke  utter  amusement  and  delight.  What 
would  the  duke  make  of  it  ?  He  did  not  know 
what  to  make  of  it,  and  glared  at  her  in  angry 
bewilderment.  Her  quick  wit  saw  the  blunder 
she  had  been  betrayed  into.  She  said  "  Oh  ! " 
again,  but  this  time  it  expressed  nothing  except 
a  sense  of  insult  and  indignation. 

"  What's  that  man  here  for  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Because  I  have  engaged  him  to  assist  my 
household." 

"I  had  dismissed  him, "she  said  haughtily. 

"  I  must  beg  you  to  postpone  the  execution 
of  your  decree,"  said  he.  "  I  have  need  of  a 
servant,  and  I  have  no  time  to  find  another." 

"  What  need  is  there  of  another  ?  Is  not 
Lafleur  here  ? "  (She  was  playing  her  part 
well  now.) 

"  Lafleur  comes  to-morrow  ;  but  he  will  not 
be  enough." 

"  Not  enough-— for  you  and  me  ?  " 

"  Our  party  will  be  larger  to-morrow." 

"  More  surprises  ?  "  she  asked,  sinking  back 
into  her  chair. 

"  If  it  be  a  surprise  that  I  should  invite  my 
friends  to  my  house,"  he  retorted. 

"  And  that  you  should  not  consult  your  wife," 
she  said,  with  a  smile. 

He  turned  to  me,  bethinking  himself,  I  sup- 
pose, that  the  conversation  was  not  best  suited 
for  the  ears  of  the  groom. 

"  Go  and  join  your  fellow-servants ;  and  see 
that  you  behave  yourself  this  time." 

I  bowed  and  was  about  to  withdraw,  when 


THE  DUCHESS  DEFINES  HER  POSITION.     35 

the  duchess  motioned  me  to  stop.  For  an 
instant  her  eyes  rested  on  mine.  Then  she 
said,  in  gentle  tones: 

"  I  am  glad,  Sampson,  that  the  duke  thinks  it 
safe  to  give  you  an  opportunity  of  retrieving 
your  character." 

"  That  for  his  character !  "  said  the  duke, 
snapping  his  fingers.  "  I  want  him  to  help 
when  Mme.  and  Mile.  Delhasse  are  here." 

On  the  words  the  duchess  went  red  in  the 
face,  and  then  white,  and  sprang  up,  declaring 
aloud  in  resolute,  angry  tones,  that  witnessed 
the  depth  of  her  feelings  in  the  matter  : 

"  I  will  not  receive  Mile.  Delhasse  !  " 

I  was  glad  I  had  not  missed  that :  it  was  a 
new  aspect  of  my  little  friend  the  duchess. 
Alas,  my  pleasure  was  short-lived  !  for  the  duke, 
his  face  full  of  passion,  pointed  to  the  door, 
saying  "  Go  !  "  and,  cursing  his  regard  for  the 
dignity  of  the  family,  I  went. 

In  the  hall  I  paused.  At  first  I  saw  nobody. 
Presently  a  rosy,  beaming  face  peered  at  me 
over  the  baluster  halfway  up  the  stairs,  and 
Suzanne  stole  cautiously  down,  her  finger  on 
her  lips. 

"But  what  does  it  mean,  sir?"  she  whis- 
pered. 

"  It  means,"  said  I,  "  that  the  duke  takes  me 
for  the  dismissed  groom — and  has  re-engaged 
me." 

"  And  you've  come  ?  "  she  cried  softly,  clasp- 
ing her  hands  in  amazement. 

"  Doesn't  it  appear  so  ?  " 

"  And  you're  going  to  stay,  sir  ?  " 


36      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  Ah,  that's  another  matter.  But — for  the 
moment,  yes." 

"  As  a  servant  ?  " 

"  Why  not — in  such  good  company  ?  " 

"  Does  madame  know?  " 

"  Yes,  she  knows,  Suzanne.  Come,  show  me 
the  way  to  my  quarters  ;  and  no  more  'sir  'just 
now." 

We  were  standing  by  the  stairs.  I  looked  up 
and  saw  the  other  girls  clustered  on  the  landing 
above  us. 

"  Go  and  tell  them,"  I  said.  "  Warn  them  to 
show  no  surprise.  Then  come  back  and  show 
me  the  way." 

Suzanne,  her  mirth  half-startled  out  of  her 
but  yet  asserting  its  existence  in  dimples  round 
her  mouth,  went  on  her  errand.  I  leaned 
against  the  lowest  baluster  and  waited. 

Suddenly  the  door  of  the  duchess'  room  was 
flung  open  and  she  came  out.  She  stood  for  an 
instant  on  the  threshold.  She  turned  toward 
the  interior  of  the  room  and  she  stamped  her 
foot  on  the  parqueted  floor. 

"  No — no — no  !  "  she  said  passionately,  and 
flung  the  door  close  behind  her,  to  the  accom- 
paniment of  a  harsh,  scornful  laugh. 

Involuntarily  I  sprang  forward  to  meet  her. 
But  she  was  better  on  her  guard  than  I. 

"  Not  now,"  she  whispered,  "  but  I  must  see 
you  soon — this  evening — after  dinner.  Suzanne 
will  arrange  it.  You  must  help  me,  Mr.  Aycon  ; 
I'm  in  trouble." 

"  With  all  my  power  !  "  I  whispered,  and  with 
a  glance  of  thanks  she  sped  upstairs.  I  saw 


THE  DUCHESS  DEFINES  HER  POSITION.     37 

her  stop  and  speak  to  the  group  of  girls,  talking 
to  them  in  an  eager  whisper.  Then,  followed 
by  two  of  them,  she  pursued  her  way  upstairs. 

Suzanne  came  down  and  approached  me,  say- 
ing simply,  "  Come/1  and  led  the  way  toward 
the  servants'  quarters.  I  followed  her,  smiling ; 
I  was  about  to  make  acquaintance  with  a  new 
side  of  life. 

Yet  at  the  same  time  I  was  wondering  who 
Mile.  Delhasse  might  chance  to  be :  the  name 
seemed  familiar  to  me,  and  yet  for  the  moment 
I  could  not  trace  it.  And  then  I  slapped  my 
thigh  in  the  impulse  of  my  discovery. 

"  By  Jove,  Marie  Delhasse  the  singer  !  "  cried 
I,  in  English. 

"  Sir,  sir,  for  Heaven's  sake  be  quiet ! " 
whispered  Suzanne. 

"  You  are  perfectly  right,"  said  I,  with  a  nod 
of  approbation. 

"  And  this  is  the  pantry,"  said  Suzanne,  for 
all  the  world  as  though  nothing  had  happened. 
"  And  in  that  cupboard  you  will  find  Sampson's 
livery." 

"  Is  it  a  pretty  one  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  You,  sir,  will  look  well  in  it,"  said  she, 
with  that  delicate  evasive  flattery  that  I  love. 
"  Would  not  you,  sir,  look  well  in  anything  ?  " 
she  meant. 

And  while  I  changed  my  traveling  suit  for  the 
livery,  I  remembered  more  about  Marie  Del- 
hasse, and,  among  other  things,  that  the  Duke 
of  Saint-Maclou  was  rumored  to  be  her  most 
persistent  admirer.  Some  said  that  she  favored 
him;  others  denied  it  with  more  or  less  convic- 


38      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

tion  and  indignation.  But,  whatever  might 
chance  to  be  the  truth  about  that,  it  was  plain 
that  the  duchess  had  something  to  say  for  her- 
self when  she  declined  to  receive  the  lady. 
Her  refusal  was  no  idle  freak,  but  a  fixed  deter- 
mination, to  which  she  would  probably  adhere. 
And,  in  fact,  adhere  to  it  she  did,  even  under 
some  considerable  changes  of  circumstance. 


CHAPTER  V. 
B  Strategic  IRetreat 

j]HE  arrival  of  the  duke,  aided  perhaps 
by  his  bearing  toward  his  wife  and 
toward  me,  had  a  somewhat  curious 
effect  on  me.  I  will  not  say  that  I  felt 
at  liberty  to  fall  in  love  with  the  duchess  ;  but 
I  felt  the  chain  of  honor,  which  had  hitherto 
bound  me  from  taking  any  advantage  of  her 
indiscretion,  growing  weaker ;  and  I  also  per- 
ceived the  possibility  of  my  inclinations  begin- 
ning to  strain  on  the  weakened  chain.  On  this 
account,  among  others,  I  resolved,  as  I  sat  in 
the  pantry  drinking  a  glass  of  wine  with  which 
Suzanne  kindly  provided  me,  that  my  sojourn 
in  the  duke's  household  should  be  of  the  short- 
est. Moreover,  I  was  not  amused  ;  I  was  not 
a  real  groom  ;  the  maids  treated  me  with  greater 
distance  and  deference  than  before ;  I  lost  the 
entertainment  of  upstairs,  and  did  not  gain  the 
interest  of  downstairs.  The  absurd  position 
must  be  ended.  I  would  hear  what  the  duchess 
wanted  of  me ;  then  I  would  go,  leaving  Lafleur 
to  grapple  with  his  increased  labors  as  best  he 
could.  True,  I  should  miss  Marie  Delhasse. 
Well,  young  men  are  foolish. 

"  Perhaps,"  said  I  to  myself  with  a  sigh,  "  it's 
just  as  well." 

39 


40      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

I  did  not  wait  at  table  that  night ;  the  duchess 
was  shut  up  in  her  own  apartment :  the  duke 
took  nothing  but  an  omelette  and  a  cup  of 
coffee  ;  these  finished,  he  summoned  Suzanne 
and  her  assistants  to  attend  him  on  the  bedroom 
floor,  and  I  heard  him  giving  directions  for  the 
lodging  of  the  expected  guests.  Apparently 
they  were  to  be  received,  although  the  duchess 
would  not  receive  them.  Not  knowing  what  to 
make  of  that  situation,  I  walked  out  into  the 
garden  and  lit  my  pipe  ;  I  had  clung  to  that  in 
spite  of  my  change  of  raiment. 

Presently  Suzanne  looked  out.  A  call  from 
the  duke  proclaimed  that  she  had  stolen  a 
moment.  She  nodded,  pointed  to  the  narrow 
gravel  path  which  led  into  the  shrubbery,  and 
hastily  withdrew.  I  understood,  and  strolled 
carelessly  along  the  path  till  I  reached  the 
shrubbery.  There  another  little  path,  running 
nearly  at  right  angles  to  that  by  which  I  had 
come,  opened  before  me.  I  strolled  some  little 
way  along,  and  finding  myself  entirely  hidden 
from  the  house  by  the  intervening  trees,  I  sat 
down  on  a  rude  wooden  bench  to  wait  patiently 
till  I  should  be  wanted.  For  the  duchess  I 
should  have  had  to  wait  some  time,  but  for 
company  I  did  not  wait  long ;  after  about  ten 
minutes  I  perceived  a  small,  spare,  dark-com- 
plexioned man  coming  along  the  path  toward 
me  and  toward  the  house.  He  must  have  made 
a  short  cut  from  the  road,  escaping  the  wind- 
ing of  the  carriage-way.  He  wore  decent  but 
rather  shabby  clothes,  and  carried  a  small 
valise  in  his  hand.  Stopping  opposite  to  me, 


A   STRATEGIC  RETREAT.  4! 

he  raised  his  hat  and  seemed  to  scan  my  neat 
blue  brass-buttoned  coat  and  white  cords  with 
interest. 

"  You  belong  to  the  household  of  the  duke, 
sir?  "  he  asked,  with  a  polite  lift  of  his  hat. 

I  explained  that  I  did — for  the  moment. 

"  Then  you  think  of  leaving,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  I  said,  "  as  soon  as  I  can  ;  I  am  only 
engaged  for  the  time." 

"  You  do  not  happen  to  know,  sir,  if  the  duke 
requires  a  well-qualified  indoor  servant?  I 
should  be  most  grateful  if  you  would  present 
me  to  him.  I  heard  in  Paris  that  a  servant 
had  left  him  ;  but  he  started  so  suddenly  that  I 
could  not  get  access  to  him,  and  I  have  followed 
him  here." 

"  It's  exactly  what  he  does  want,  I  believe, 
sir,"  said  I.  "  If  I  were  you,  I  would  go  to  the 
house  and  obtain  entrance.  The  duke  expects 
guests  to-morrow." 

"  But  yourself,  sir  ?  Are  not  your  services 
sufficient  for  the  present?  " 

"As  you  perceive,"  said  I,  indicating  my 
attire,  "  I  am  not  an  indoor  servant.  I  am  but 
a  makeshift  in  that  capacity." 

He  smiled  a  polite  remonstrance  at  my 
modesty,  adding : 

"  You  think,  then,  I  might  have  a  chance  ?  " 

"An  excellent  one,  I  believe.  Turn  to  the 
left,  there  by  the  chestnut  tree,  and  you  will 
find  yourself  within  a  minute's  walk  of  the  front 
door." 

He  bowed,  raised  his  hat,  and  trotted  off, 
moving  with  a  quick,  shuffling,  short-stepping 


42      THE  INDISCRETION  OF   THE  DUCHESS. 

gait.  I  lit  another  pipe  and  yawned.  I  hoped 
the  duke  would  engage  this  newcomer  and  let 
me  go  about  my  business  ;  and  I  fancied  that 
he  would,  for  the  fellow  looked  dapper,  sharp, 
and  handy.  And  the  duchess  ?  I  was  so  dis- 
turbed to  find  myself  disturbed  at  the  thought 
of  the  duchess  that  I  exclaimed  : 

"  By  Jove,  I'd  better  go !    By  Jove,  I  had  ! " 

A  wishing-cap,  or  rather  a  hoping-cap — for 
if  a  man  who  is  no  philosopher  may  have  an 
opinion,  we  do  not  always  wish  and  hope  for 
the  same  thing — could  have  done  no  more  for 
me  than  the  chance  of  Fate ;  for  at  the  moment 
the  duke's  voice  called  "  Sampson ! "  loudly 
from  the  house.  I  ran  in  obedience  to  his 
summons.  He  stood  in  the  porch  with  the 
little  stranger  by  him  ;  and  the  stranger  wore  a 
deferential,  but  extremely  well-satisfied  smile. 

"Here,  you,"  said  the  duke  to  me,  "you  can 
make  yourself  scarce  as  soon  as  you  like.  I've 
got  a  better  servant,  aye,  and  a  sober  one. 
There's  ten  francs  for  you.  Now  be  off!  " 

I  felt  it  incumbent  on  me  to  appear  a  little 
aggrieved : 

"  Am  I  to  go  to-night  ?  "  I  asked.  "  Where 
can  I  get  to  to-night,  my  lord  ?  " 

"  What's  that  to  me  ?  I  dare  say  if  you  stand 
old  Jean  a  franc,  he'll  give  you  a  lift  to  the 
nearest  inn.  Tell  him  he  may  take  a  farm- 
horse." 

Really  the  duke  was  treating  me  with  quite  as 
much  civility  as  I  have  seen  many  of  my  friends 
extend  to  their  servants.  I  had  nothing  to 
complain  of.  I  bowed,  and  was  about  to  turn 


A   STRATEGIC  RETREAT.  43 

away,  when  the  duchess  appeared  in  the 
porch. 

"  What  is  it,  Armand  ?  "  she  asked.  "  You 
are  sending  Sampson  away  after  all  ?  " 

"  I  could  not  deny  your  request,0  said  he  in 
mockery.  "  Moreover,  I  have  found  a  better 
servant." 

The  stranger  almost  swept  the  ground  in 
obeisance  before  the  lady  of  the  house. 

"  You  are  very  changeable,"  said  the  duchess. 

I  saw  vexation  in  her  face. 

"  My  dearest,  your  sex  cannot  have  a  mo- 
nopoly of  change.  I  change  a  bad  servant — 
as  you  yourself  think  him — for  a  good  one.  Is 
that  remarkable  ?  " 

The  duchess  said  not  another  word,  but 
turned  into  the  house  and  disappeared.  The 
duke  followed  her.  The  stranger,  with  a  bow 
to  me,  followed  him.  I  was  left  alone. 

"  Certainly  I  am  not  wanted,"  said  I  to  my- 
self ;  and,  having  arrived  at  this  conclusion,  I 
sought  out  old  Jean.  The  old  fellow  was  only 
too  ready  to  drive  me  to  Avranches  or  anywhere 
else  for  five  francs,  and  was  soon  busy  putting 
his  horse  in  the  shafts.  I  sought  out  Suzanne, 
got  her  to  smuggle  my  luggage  downstairs, 
gave  her  a  parting  present,  took  off  my  livery 
and  put  on  the  groom's  old  suit,  and  was  ready 
to  leave  the  house  of  M.  de  Saint-Maclou. 

At  nine  o'clock  my  short  servitude  ended. 
As  soon  as  a  bend  in  the  road  hid  us  from  the 
house  I  opened  my  portmanteau,  got  out  my 
own  clothes,  and,  sub  (Ether e,  changed  my 
raiment,  putting  on  a  quiet  suit  of  blue,  and 


44      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

presenting  George  Sampson's  rather  obtrusive 
garments  (which  I  took  the  liberty  of  regarding 
as  a  perquisite)  to  Jean,  who  received  them 
gladly.  I  felt  at  once  a  different  being — so  true 
it  is  that  the  tailor  makes  the  man. 

"  You  are  well  out  of  that,"  grunted  old 
Jean.  "  If  he'd  discovered  you,  he'd  have  had 
you  out  and  shot  you  ! " 

"  He  is  a  good  shot  ?  " 

"  Mon  Dieu  !  "  said  Jean  with  an  expressive- 
ness which  was  a  little  disquieting ;  for  it  was 
on  the  cards  that  the  duke  might  still  find  me 
out.  And  I  was  not  a  practiced  shot — not  at 
my  fellow-men,  I  mean.  Suddenly  I  leaped  up. 

"  Good  Heavens ! "  I  cried.  "  I  forgot !  The 
duchess  wanted  me.  Stop,  stop  !  " 

With  a  jerk  Jean  pulled  up  his  horse,  and 
gazed  at  me. 

"  You  can't  go  back  like  that,"  he  said,  with 
a  grin.  "  You'll  have  to  put  on  these  clothes 
again,"  and  he  pointed  to  the  discarded  suit. 

"  I  very  nearly  forgot  the  duchess,"  said  I. 
To  tell  the  truth,  I  was  at  first  rather  proud 
of  my  forgetfulness ;  it  argued  a  complete 
triumph  over  that  unruly  impulse  at  which 
I  have  hinted.  But  it  also  smote  me  with 
remorse.  I  leaped  to  the  ground. 

"  You  must  wait  while  I  run  back." 

"  He  will  shoot  you  after  all,"  grinned  Jean. 

"  The  devil  take  him  ! "  said  I,  picturing  the 
poor  duchess  utterly  forsaken — at  the  mercy 
of  Delhasses,  husband,  and  what  not. 

I  declare,  as  my  deliberate  opinion,  that  there 
is  nothing  more  dangerous  than  for  a  man 


A   STRATEGIC  RETREAT.  45 

almost  to  forget  a  lady  who  has  shown  him 
favor.  If  he  can  quite  forget  her— and  will  be 
so  unromantic — why,  let  him,  and  perhaps  small 

harm  done.     But  almost That  leaves  him 

at  the  mercy  of  every  generous  self-reproach. 
He  is  ready  to  do  anything  to  prove  that  she 
was  every  second  in  his  memory. 

I  began  to  retrace  my  steps  toward  the 
chdteau. 

"  I  shall  get  the  sack  over  this ! "  called 
Jean. 

"  You  shall  come  to  no  harm  by  that,  if  you 
do,"  I  assured  him. 

But  hardly  had  I — my  virtuous  pride  now 
completely  smothered  by  my  tender  remorse — 
started  on  my  ill-considered  return  journey, 
when,  just  as  had  happened  to  Gustave  de 
Berensac  and  myself  the  evening  before,  a  slim 
figure  ran  down  from  the  bank  by  the  roadside. 
It  was  the  duchess.  The  short  cut  had  served 
her.  She  was  hardly  out  of  breath  this  time ; 
and  she  appeared  composed  and  in  good 
spirits. 

"  I  thought  for  a  moment  you'd  forgotten  me, 
but  I  knew  you  wouldn't  do  that,  Mr.  Aycon." 

Could  I  resist  such  trust  ? 
•  "  Forget  you,  madame  ?  "  I  cried.     "  I  would 
as  soon  forget " 

"  So  I  knew  you'd  wait  for  me." 

"  Here  I  am,  waiting  faithfully,"  said  I. 

"  That's  right,"  said  the  duchess.  "  Take 
this,  please,  Mr.  Aycon." 

"  This  "  was  a  small  handbag.  She  gave  it 
to  me,  and  began  to  walk  toward  the  cart, 


46      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

where  Jean  was  placidly  smoking  a  long  black 
cheroot. 

"  You  wished  to  speak  to  me  ?  "  I  suggested, 
as  I  walked  by  her. 

"  I  can  do  it,"  said  the  duchess,  reaching  the 
cart,  "  as  we  go  along." 

Even  Jean  took  his  cheroot  from  his  lips.  I 
jumped  back  two  paces. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  As 
we  go  along,  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  It  will  be  better,"  said  the  duchess,  getting 
into  the  cart  (unassisted  by  me,  I  am  sorry  to 
say).  "  Because  he  may  find  out  I'm  gone,  and 
come  after  us,  you  know." 

Nothing  seemed  more  likely  ;  I  was  bound  to 
admit  that. 

"  Get  in,  Mr.  Aycon,"  continued  the  duchess. 
And  then  she  suddenly  began  to  talk  English. 
"  I  told  him  I  shouldn't  stay  in  the  house  if 
Mile.  Delhasse  came.  He  didn't  believe  me ; 
well,  he'll  see  now.  I  couldn't  stay,  could  I  ? 
Why  don't  you  get  in  ?  " 

Half  dazed,  I  got  in.  I  offered  no  opinion 
on  the  question  of  Mile.  Delhasse :  to  begin 
with,  I  knew  very  little  about  it ;  in  the  second 
place  there  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  more  pressing 
question. 

"  Quick,  Jean  !  "  said  the  duchess. 

And  we  lumbered  on  at  a  trot,  Jean  twisting 
his  cheroot  round  and  round,  and  grunting  now 
and  again.  The  old  man's  face  -said,  plain  as 
words. 

"  Yes,  I  shall  get  the  sack ;  and  you'll  be 
be  shot ! " 


A   STRATEGIC  RETREAT.  47 

I  found  my  tongue. 

"  Was  this  what  you  wanted  me  for  ? "  I 
asked. 

"Of  course,"  said  the  duchess,  speaking 
French  again. 

"  But  you  can't  come  with  me  ! "  I  cried  in 
unfeigned  horror. 

The  duchess  looked  up ;  she  fixed  her  eyes 
on  me  for  a  moment;  her  eyes  grew  round, 
her  brows  lifted.  Then  her  lips  curved:  she 
blushed  very  red  ;  and  she  burst  into  the  mer- 
riest fit  of  laughter. 

"  Oh,  dear ! "  laughed  the  duchess.  "  Oh, 
what  fun,  Mr.  Aycon  ! " 

"  It  seems  to  me  rather  a  serious  matter,"  I 
ventured  to  observe.  "  Leaving  out  all  question 
of — of  what's  correct,  you  know  "  (I  became 
very  apologetic  at  this  point),  "  it's  just  a  little 
risky,  isn't  it  ?  " 

Jean  evidently  thought  so ;  he  nodded 
solemnly  over  his  cheroot. 

The  duchess  still  laughed ;  indeed,  she  was 
wiping  her  eyes  with  her  handkerchief. 

"  What  an  opinion  to  have  of  me ! "  she 
gasped  at  last.  "  I'm  not  coming  with  you, 
Mr.  Aycon." 

I  dare  say  my  face  showed  relief :  I  don't  know 
that  I  need  be  ashamed  of  that.  My  change  of 
expression,  however,  set  the  duchess  a-laughing 
again. 

"  I  never  saw  a  man  look  so  glad,"  said  she 
gayly.  Yet  somewhere,  lurking  in  the  recesses 
of  her  tone — or  was  it  of  her  eyes  ? — there  was 
a  little  reproach,  a  little  challenge.  And  sud- 


4§      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

denly  I  felt  less  glad  :  a  change  of  feeling 
which  I  do  not  seek  to  defend. 

"  Then  where  are  you  going  ? "  I  asked  in 
much  curiosity. 

"  I  am  going,"  said  the  duchess,  assuming  in 
a  moment  a  most  serious  air,  "  into  religious 
retirement  for  a  few  days." 

"  Religious  retirement  ?  "I  echoed  in  surprise. 

"  Are  you  thinking  it's  not  my  metier?  "  she 
asked,  her  eyes  gleaming  again. 

11  But  where  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  Why,  there,  to  be  sure."  And  she  pointed 
to  where  the  square  white  convent  stood  on  the 
edge  of  the  bay,  under  the  hill  of  Avranches. 
"  There,  at  the  convent.  The  Mother  Superior 
is  my  friend,  and  will  protect  me." 

The  duchess  spoke  as  though  the  guillotine 
were  being  prepared  for  her.  I  sat  silent.  The 
situation  was  becoming  rather  too  complicated 
for  my  understanding.  Unfortunately,  how- 
ever, it  was  to  become  more  complicated  still ; 
for  the  duchess,  turning  to  the  English  tongue 
again,  laid  a  hand  on  my  arm  and  said  in  her 
most  coaxing  tones : 

"  And  you,  my  dear  Mr.  Aycon,  are  going  to 
stay  a  few  days  in  Avranches." 

"  Not  an  hour ! "  would  have  expressed  the 
resolve  of  my  intellect.  But  we  are  not  all  in- 
tellect ;  and  what  I  actually  said  was : 

"  What  for  ?  " 

"  In  case,"  said  the  duchess,  "  I  want  you, 
Mr.  Aycon." 

"  I  will  stay,"  said  I,  nodding,  "  just  a  few 
days  at  Avranches." 


A   STRATEGIC  RETREAT.  49 

We  were  within  half  a  mile  of  that  town. 
The  convent  gleamed  white  in  the  moonlight 
about  three  hundred  yards  to  the  left.  The 
duchess  took  her  little  bag,  jumped  lightly  down, 
kissed  her  hand  to  me,  and  walked  off. 

Jean  had  made  no  comment  at  all— the 
duchess'  household  was  hard  to  surprise.  I 
could  make  none.  And  we  drove  in  silence 
into  Avranches. 

When  there  before  with  Gustave,  I  had  put 
up  at  a  small  inn  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  Now 
I  drove  up  to  the  summit  and  stopped  before 
the  principal  hotel.  A  waiter  ran  out,  cast  a 
curious  glance  at  my  conveyance,  and  lifted  my 
luggage  down. 

"  Let  me  know  if  you  get  into  any  trouble  for 
being  late,"  said  I  to  Jean,  giving  him  another 
five  francs. 

He  nodded  and  drove  off,  still  chewing  the 
stump  of  his  cheroot. 

"  Can  I  have  a  room  ?  "  I  asked,  turning  to 
the  waiter. 

"  Certainly,  sir,"  said  he,  catching  up  my  bag 
in  his  hand. 

"  I  am  just  come,"  said  I,  "  from  Mont  St. 
Michel." 

A  curious  expression  spread  over  the  waiter's 
face.  I  fancy  he  knew  old  Jean  and  the  cart  by 
sight ;  but  he  spread  out  his  hands  and  smiled. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  he  with  the  incomparable 
courtesy  of  the  French  nation,  "  has  come  from 
wherever  monsieur  pleases." 

"  That,"  said  I,  giving  him  a  trifle,  "  is  an 
excellent  understanding." 


50      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

Then  I  walked  into  the  s at le-a-m anger,  and 
almost  into  the  arms  of  an  extraordinarily  hand- 
some girl  who  was  standing  just  inside  the 
door. 

"  This  is  really  an  eventful  day,"  I  thought  to 
myself. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
1bint  of  Sometbing  Serious 

flCCURRENCES  such  as  this  induce 
in  a  man  of  imagination  a  sense  of 
sudden  shy  intimacy.  The  physical 
encounter  seems  to  typify  and  fore- 
shadow some  intermingling  of  destiny.  This 
occurs  with  peculiar  force  when  the  lady  is  as 
beautiful  as  was  the  girl  I  saw  before  me. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  madame,"  said  I,  with  a 
whirl  of  my  hat. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir/'  said  the  lady,  with 
an  inclination  of  her  head. 

"  One  is  so  careless  in  entering  rooms  hur- 
riedly," I  observed. 

"  Oh,  but  it  is  stupid  to  stand  just  by  the 
door ! "  insisted  the  lady. 

Conscious  that  she  was  scanning  my  appear- 
ance, I  could  but  return  the  compliment.  She 
was  very  tall,  almost  as  tall  as  I  was  myself ; 
you  would  choose  to  call  her  stately,  rather 
than  slender.  She  was  very  fair,  with  large 
lazy  blue  eyes  and  a  lazy  smile  to  match.  In 
all  respects  she  was  the  greatest  contrast  to 
the  Duchess  of  Saint-Maclou. 

"  You  were  about  to  pass  out  ?  "  said  I,  hold- 
ing the  door. 

51 


52      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

She  bowed  ;  but  at  the  moment  another  lady — 
elderly,  rather  stout,  and,  to  speak  it  plainly,  of 
homely  and  unattractive  aspect — whom  I  had 
not  hitherto  perceived,  called  from  a  table  at 
the  other  end  of  the  room  where  she  was 
sitting : 

"  We  ought  to  start  early  to-morrow." 

The  younger  lady  turned  her  head  slowly 
toward  the  speaker. 

"  My  dear  mother,"  said  she,  "  I  never  start 
early.  Besides,  this  town  is  interesting — the 
landlord  says  so." 

"But  he  wishes  us  to  arrive  for  ddjeuner" 

"We  will  take  it  here.  Perhaps  we  will 
drive  over  in  the  afternoon — perhaps  the  next 
day. " 

And  the  young  lady  gazed  at  her  mother 
with  an  air  of  indifference — or  rather  it  seemed 
to  me  strangely  like  one  of  aversion  and 
defiance. 

"  My  dear !  "  cried  the  elder  in  consternation. 
"  My  clearest  Marie  ! " 

"  It  is  just  as  I  thought,"  said  I  to  myself 
complacently. 

Marie  Delhasse — for  beyond  doubt  it  was 
she — walked  slowly  across  the  room  and  sat 
down  by  her  mother.  I  took  a  table  nearer 
the  door ;  the  waiter  appeared,  and  I  ordered  a 
light  supper.  Marie  poured  out  a  glass  of  wine 
from  a  bottle  on  the  table ;  apparently  they  had 
been  supping.  They  began  to  converse  together 
in  low  tones.  My  repast  arriving,  I  fell  to.  A 
few  moments  later,  I  heard  Marie  say,  in  her 
composed  indolent  tones : 


A   HINT  OF  SOMETHING  SERIOUS.          53 

"  I'm  not  sure  I  shall  go  at  all.  Entre  nous, 
he  bores  me." 

I  stole  a  glance  at  Mme.  Delhasse.  Conster- 
nation was  writ  large  on  her  face,  and  suspicion 
besides.  She  gave  her  daughter  a  quick  side- 
long glance,  and  a  frown  gathered  on  her  brow. 
So  far  as  I  heard,  however,  she  attempted  no 
remonstrance.  She  rose,  wrapping  a  shawl 
round  her,  and  made  for  the  door.  I  sprang 
up  and  opened  it ;  she  walked  out.  Marie 
drew  a  chair  to  the  fire  and  sat  down  with  her 
back  to  me,  toasting  her  feet — for  the  summer 
night  had  turned  chilly.  I  finished  my  supper. 
The  clock  struck  half-past  eleven.  I  stifled  a 
yawn  ;  one  smoke  and  then  to  the  bed  was  my 
programme. 

Marie  Delhasse  turned  her  head  half- 
round. 

"  You  must  not,"  said  she,  "  let  me  prevent 
you  having  your  cigarette.  I  should  set  you  at 
ease  by  going  to  bed,  but  I  can't  sleep  so  early, 
and  upstairs  the  fire  is  not  lighted." 

I  thanked  her  and  approached  the  fire.  She 
was  gazing  into  it  meditatively.  Presently  she 
looked  up. 

"  Smoke,  sir,"  she  said  imperiously  but 
languidly. 

I  obeyed  her,  and  stood  looking  down  at 
her,  admiring  her  stately  beauty. 

"You  have  passed  the  day  here?"  she 
asked,  gazing  again  into  the  fire. 

"  In  this  neighborhood,"  said  I,  with  discreet 
vagueness. 

"  You  have  been  able  to  pass  the  time  ?  " 


54      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  Oh,  certainly ! "  That  had  not  been  my 
difficulty. 

"  There  is,  of  course,"  she  said  wearily, 
"  Mont  St.  Michel.  But  can  you  imagine  any- 
one living  in  such  a  country  ?  " 

"  Unless  Fate  set  one  here "  I  began. 

"  I  suppose  that's  it,"  she  interrupted. 

"  You  are  going  to  make  a  stay  here  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  she  answered  slowly,  "  on  my  way 
to — I  don't  know  where." 

I  was  scrutinizing  her  closely  now,  for  her 
manner  seemed  to  witness  more  than  indo- 
lence ;  irresolution,  vacillation,  discomfort,  as- 
serted their  presence.  I  could  not  make  her 
out,  but  her  languid  indifference  appeared  more 
assumed  than  real. 

With  another  upward  glance,  she  said  : 

"  My  name  is  Marie  Delhasse." 

"  It  is  a  well-known  name,"  said  I  with  a  bow. 

"  You  have  heard  of  me  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  What  ?  "  she  asked  quickly,  wheeling  half- 
round  and  facing  me. 

"  That  you  are  a  great  singer,"  I  answered 
simply. 

"Ah,  I'm  not  all  voice!  What  about  me? 
A  woman  is  more  than  an  organ  pipe.  What 
about  me  ?  " 

Her  excitement  contrasted  with  the  langour 
she  had  displayed  before. 

"  Nothing,"  said  I,  wondering  that  she  should 
ask  a  stranger  such  a  question.  She  glanced 
at  me  for  an  instant.  I  threw  my  eyes  up  to 
the  ceiling. 


A  HINT  OF  SOMETHING  SERIOUS.          55 

"  It  is  false ! "  she  said  quietly ;  but  the 
.trembling  of  her  hands  belied  her  composure. 

The  tawdry  gilt  clock  on  the  mantelpiece  by 
1  me  ticked  through  a  long  silence.  The  last  act 
of  the  day's  comedy  seemed  set  for  a  more 
serious  scene. 

"  Why  do  you  ask  a  stranger  a  question  like 
that  ?  "  I  said  at  last,  giving  utterance  to  the 
thought  that  puzzled  me. 

"  Whom  should  I  ask?  And  I  like  your  face 
— no,  not  because  it  is  handsome.  You  are 
English,  sir  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am  English.  My  name  is  Gilbert 
Aycon." 

"  Aycon — Aycon  !  It  is  a  little  difficult  to 
say  it  as  you  say  it." 

Her  thoughts  claimed  her  again.  I  threw  my 
cigarette  into  the  fire,  and  stood  waiting  her 
pleasure.  But  she  seemed  to  have  no  more  to 
say,  for  she  rose  from  the  seat  and  held  out  her 
hand  to  me. 

"  Will  you  '  shake  hands  ?  '  "  she  said,  the  last 
two  words  in  English  ;  and  she  smiled  again. 

I  hastened  to  do  as  she  asked  me,  and  she 
moved  toward  the  door. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  said,  "  I  shall  see  you 
to-morrow  morning." 

"  I  shall  be  here."  Then  I  added  :  "  I  could 
not  help  hearing  you  talk  of  moving  elsewhere." 

She  stood  still  in  the  middle  of  the  room ; 
she  opened  her  lips  to  speak,  shut  them  again, 
and  ended  by  saying  nothing  more  than  : 

"  Yes,  we  talked  of  it.  My  mother  wishes  it. 
Good-night,  Mr.  Aycon." 


56      THE  INDISCRETION  OF   THE  DUCHESS. 

I  bade  her  good-night,  and  she  passed  slowly 
through  the  door,  which  I  closed  behind  her.  I 
turned  again  to  the  fire,  saying : 

"  What  would  the  duchess  think  of  that  ?  " 

I  did  not  even  know  what  I  thought  of  it 
myself;  of  one  thing  only  I  felt  sure — that  what 
I  had  heard  of  Marie  Delhasse  was  not  all  that 
there  was  to  learn  about  her. 

I  was  lodged  in  a  large  room  on  the  third 
floor,  and  when  I  awoke  the  bright  sun  beamed 
on  the  convent  where,  as  I  presume,  Mme.  de 
Saint-Maclou  lay,  and  on  the  great  Mount 
beyond  it  in  the  distance.  I  have  never  risen 
with  a  more  lively  sense  of  unknown  possibilities 
in  the  day  before  me.  These  two  women  who 
had  suddenly  crossed  my  path,  and  their 
relations  to  the  pale  puffy-cheeked  man  at  the 
little  chdteau,  might  well  produce  results  more 
startling  than  had  seemed  to  be  offered  even  by 
such  a  freak  as  the  original  expedition  under- 
taken by  Gustave  de  Berensac  and  me.  And 
now  Gustave  had  fallen  away  and  I  was  left  to 
face  the  thing  alone.  For  face  it  I  must.  My 
promise  to  the  duchess  bound  me :  had  it  not 
I  doubt  whether  I  should  have  gone ;  for  my 
interest  was  not  only  in  the  duchess. 

I  had  my  coffee  upstairs,  and  then,  putting 
on  my  hat,  went  down  for  a  stroll.  So  long  as 
the  duke  did  not  come  to  Avranches,  I  could 
show  my  face  boldly — and  was  not  he  busy 
preparing  for  his  guests  ?  I  crossed  the  thresh- 
old of  the  hotel. 

Just  at  the  entrance  stood  Marie  Delhasse ; 
opposite  her  was  a  thickset  fellow,  neatly 


A  HINT  OF  SOMETHING  SERIOUS.          57 

dressed  and  wearing  mutton-chop  whiskers. 
As  I  came  out  I  raised  my  hat.  The  man 
appeared  not  to  notice  me,  though  his  eyes  fell 
on  me  for  a  moment.  I  passed  quickly  by — 
in  fact,  as  quickly  as  I  could — for  it  struck  me 
at  once  that  this  man  must  be  Lafleur,  and  I 
did  not  want  him  to  give  the  duke  a  description 
of  the  unknown  gentleman  who  was  staying  at 
Avranches.  Yet,  as  I  went,  I  had  time  to  hear 
Marie's  slow  musical  voice  say  : 

"  I'm  not  coming  at  all  to-day." 

I  was  very  glad  of  it,  and  pursued  my  round 
of  the  town  with  a  lighter  heart.  Presently, 
after  half  an  hour's  walk,  I  found  myself 
opposite  the  church,  and  thus  nearly  back  at 
the  hotel :  and  in  front  of  the  church  stood 
Marie  Delhasse,  looking  at  \ht  facade. 

Raising  my  hat  I  went  up  to  her,  her  friendli- 
ness of  the  evening  before  encouraging  me. 

"  I  hope  you  are  going  to  stay  to-day  ?  "  said  I. 

"  I  don't  know."  Then  she  smiled,  but  not 
mirthfully.  "  I  expect  to  be  very  much  pressed 
to  go  this  afternoon,"  she  said. 

I  made  a  shot — apparently  at  a  venture. 

"  Someone  will  come  and  carry  you  off  ?  "  I 
asked  jestingly. 

"  It's  very  likely.  My  presence  here  will  be 
known." 

"  But  need  you  go  ?  " 

She  looked  on  the  ground  and  made  no 
answer. 

"  Perhaps  though,"  I  continued,  "  he — or 
she — will  not  come.  He  may  be  too  much 
occupied." 


58      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  To  come  for  me  ?  "  she  said,  with  the  first 
touch  of  coquetry  which  I  had  seen  in  her 
lighting  up  her  eyes. 

"  Even  for  that,  it  is  possible,"  I  rejoined. 

We  began  to  walk  together  toward  the  edge 
of  the  open  place  in  front  of  the  church.  The 
convent  came  in  sight  as  we  reached  the  fall  of 
the  hill. 

"  How  peaceful  that  looks  !  "  she  said  ;  "  I 
wonder  if  it  would  be  pleasant  there !  " 

I  was  myself  just  wondering  how  the  Duchess 
of  Saint-Maclou  found  it,  when  a  loud  cry  of 
warning  startled  us.  We  had  been  standing  on 
the  edge  of  the  road,  and  a  horse,  going  at  a 
quick  trot,  was  within  five  yards  of  us.  As  it 
reached  us,  it  was  sharply  reined  in.  To  my 
amazement,  old  Jean,  the  duchess'  servant,  sat 
upon  it.  When  he  saw  me,  a  smile  spread  over 
his  weather-beaten  face. 

"  I  was  nearly  over  you,"  said  he.  "  You  had 
no  ears." 

And  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  Jean  winked,  in- 
sinuating that  Marie  Delhasse  and  I  had  been 
preoccupied. 

The  diplomacy  of  non-recognition  had  failed 
to  strike  Jean.  I  made  the  best  of  a  bad  job, 
and  asked  : 

"  What  brings  you  here  ?  " 

Marie  stood  a  few  paces  off,  regarding  us. 

"  I'm  looking  for  Mme.  la  Duchesse," 
grinned  Jean. 

Marie  Delhasse  took  a  step  forward  when 
she  heard  his  reference  to  the  duchess. 

"  Her  absence  was  discovered  by  Suzanne  at 


A   HINT  OF  SOMETHING  SERIOUS.          59 

six  o'clock  this  morning,"  the  old  fellow  went 
on.  "  And  the  duke — ah,  take  care  how  you 
come  near  him,  sir !  Oh,  it's  a  kettle  of  fish  ! 
For  as  I  came  I  met  that  coxcomb  Lafleur  rid- 
ing back  with  a  message  from  the  duke's  guests 
that  they  would  not  come  to-day !  So  the 
duchess  is  gone,  and  the  ladies  are  not  come ; 
and  the  duke — he  has  nothing  to  do  but  curse 
that  whippersnapper  of  a  Pierre  who  came  last 
night." 

And  Jean  ended  in  a  rapturous  hoarse 
chuckle. 

"  You  were  riding  so  fast,  then,  because  you 
were  after  the  duchess  ?  "  I  suggested. 

"  I  rode  fast  for  fear,"  said  Jean,  with  a 
shrewd  smile,  "  that  I  should  stop  some- 
where on  the  road.  Well,  I  have  looked  in 
Avranches.  She  is  not  in  Avranches.  I'll 
go  home  again." 

Marie  Delhasse  came  close  to  my  side. 

"  Ask  him,"  she  said  to  me,  "  if  he  speaks  of 
the  Duchess  of  Saint-Maclou." 

I  put  the  question  as  I  was  directed. 

"  You  couldn't  have  guessed  better  if  you'd 
known,"  said  Jean  ;  and  a  swift  glace  from 
Marie  Delhasse  told  me  that  her  suspicion  as 
to  my  knowledge  was  aroused. 

"  And  what  will  happen,  Jean  ?  "  said  I. 

"The  good  God  knows,"  shrugged  Jean. 
Then,  remembering  perhaps  my  five-franc 
pieces,  he  said  politely,  "  I  hope  you  are  well, 
sir?" 

"  Up  to  now,  thank  you,  Jean,"  said  I. 

His  glance  traveled  to   Marie.     I   saw    his 


60      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

shriveled  lips  curl ;  his  expression  was  ominous 
of  an  unfortunate  remark. 

"  Good-by  !  "  said  I  significantly. 

Jean  had  some  wits.  He  spared  me  the  re- 
mark, but  not  the  sly  leer  that  had  been  made 
to  accompany  it.  He  clapped  his  heels  to  his 
horse's  side  and  trotted  off  in  the  direction  from 
which  he  had  come.  So  that  he  could  swear 
he  had  been  to  Avranches,  he  was  satisfied  ! 

Marie  Delhasse  turned  to  me,  asking 
haughtily : 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this?  What  do 
you  know  of  the  Duke  or  Duchess  of  Saint- 
Maclou  ?  " 

"  I  might  return  your  question,"  said  I,  look- 
ing her  in  the  face. 

"  Will  you  answer  it  ?  "  she  said,  flushing  red. 

"  No,  Mile.  Delhasse,  I  will  not,"  said  I. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  '  absence  '  of 
the  Duchess  of  Saint-Maclou  which  that  man 
talks  about  so  meaningly  ?  " 

Then  I  said,  speaking  low  and  slow  : 

"  Who  are  the  friends  whom  you  are  on  your 
way  to  visit  ?  " 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  she  cried.  "  What  do  you 
know  about  it  ?  What  concern  is  it  of  yours  ?  " 

There  was  no  indolence  or  lack  of  animation 
in  her  manner  now.  She  questioned  me  with 
imperious  indignation. 

"  I  will  answer  not  a  single  word,"  said  I. 
"  But — you  asked  me  last  night  what  I  had  heard 
of  you." 

"  Well  ?  "  she  said,  and  shut  her  lips  tightly 
on  the  word. 


A   HINT  OF  SOMETHING  SERIOUS.          6 1 

I  held  my  peace ;  and  in  a  moment  she  went 
on  passionately  : 

"  Who  would  have  guessed  that  you  would 
insult  me  ?  Is  it  your  habit  to  insult  women  ?  " 

"  Not  mine  only,  it  seems,"  said  I,  meeting 
her  glance  boldly. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?  " 

"  Had  you,  then,  an  invitation  from  Mme.  de 
Saint-Maclou  ?  " 

She  drew  back  as  if  I  had  struck  her.  And 
I  felt  as  though  I  had  struck  her.  She  looked 
at  me  for  a  moment  with  parted  lips  ;  then,  with- 
out a  word  or  a  sign,  she  turned  and  walked 
slowly  away  in  the  direction  of  the  hotel. 

And  I,  glad  to  have  something  else  to  occupy 
my  thoughts,  started  at  a  brisk  pace  along  the 
foot-path  that  runs  down  the  hill  and  meets  the 
road  which  would  lead  me  to  the  convent,  for  I 
had  a  thing  or  two  to  say  to  the  duchess.  And 
yet  it  was  not  of  the  duchess  only  that  I  thought 
as  I  went.  There  were  also  in  my  mind  the 
indignant  pride  with  which  Marie  Delhasse  had 
questioned  me,  and  the  shrinking  shame  in  her 
eyes  at  that  counter-question  of  mine.  The 
Duke  of  Saint-Maclou's  invitation  seemed  to 
bring  as  much  disquiet  to  one  of  his  guests  as  it 
had  to  his  wife  herself.  But  one  thing  struck 
me,  and  I  found  a  sort  of  comfort  in  it :  she  had 
thought,  it  seemed,  that  the  duchess  was  to  be 
at  home. 

"  Pah  ! "  I  cried  suddenly  to  myself.  "  If  she 
weren't  pretty,  you'd  say  that  made  it  worse  !  " 

And  I  went  on  in  a  bad  temper. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

tbe  2>oor. 


WENTY  minutes'  walking  brought  me 
to  the  wood  which  lay  between  the 
road  and  the  convent.  I  pressed  on  ; 
soon  the  wood  ceased  and  I  found 
myself  on  the  outskirts  of  a  paddock  of  rough 
grass,  where  a  couple  of  cows  and  half  a  dozen 
goats  were  pasturing  ;  a  row  of  stunted  apple 
trees  ran  along  one  side  of  the  paddock,  and 
opposite  me  rose  the  white  walls  of  the  con- 
vent ;  while  on  my  left  was  the  burying-ground 
with  its  arched  gateway,  inscribed  "Mors 
janua  vitce"  I  crossed  the  grass  and  rang  a 
bell,  that  clanged  again  and  again  in  echo. 
Nobody  came.  I  pulled  a  second  time  and 
more  violently.  After  some  further  delay  the 
door  was  cautiously  opened  a  little  way,  and  a 
young  woman  looked  out.  She  was  a  round- 
faced,  red-cheeked,  fresh  creature,  arrayed  in  a 
large  close-fitting  white  cap,  a  big  white  collar 
over  her  shoulders,  and  a  black  gown.  When 
she  saw  me,  she  uttered  an  exclamation  of 
alarm,  and  pushed  the  door  to  again.  Just  in 
time  I  inserted  my  foot  between  door  and  door- 
post. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  I  politely,  "  but  you 
evidently  misunderstand  me.     I  wish  to  enter." 
62 


HEARD   THROUGH  THE  DOOR.  63 

She  peered  at  me  through  the  two-inch  gap 
my  timely  foot  had  preserved. 

"  But  it  is  impossible,"  she  objected.  "  Our 
rules  do  not  allow  it.  Indeed,  I  may  not  talk  to 
you.  I  beg  of  you  to  move  your  foot." 

"But  then  you  would  shut  the  door." 

She  could  not  deny  it. 

"I  mean  no  harm,"  I  protested. 

" '  The  guile  of  the  wicked  is  infinite,' "  re- 
marked the  little  nun. 

"  I  want  to  see  the  Mother  Superior,"  said  I. 
"  Will  you  take  my  name  to  her?" 

I  heard  another  step  in  the  passage.  The 
door  was  flung  wide  open,  and  a  stout  and 
stately  old  lady  faced  me,  a  frown  on  her  brow. 

"  Madame,"  said  I, "  until  you  hear  my  errand 
you  will  think  me  an  ill-mannered  fellow." 

"  What  is  your  business,  sir  ?  " 

"  It  is  for  your  ear  alone,  madame." 

"  You  can't  come  in  here,"  said  she  decisively, 

For  a  moment  I  was  at  a  loss.  Then  the 
simplest  solution  in  the  world  occurred  to  me. 

"  But  you  can  come  out,  madame,"  I 
suggested. 

She  looked  at  me  doubtfully  for  a  minute. 
Then  she  stepped  out,  shutting  the  door  care- 
fully behind  her.  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
little  nun's  face,  and  thought  there  was  a  look 
of  disappointment  on  it.  The  old  lady  and  I 
began  to  walk  along  the  path  that  led  to  the 
burying-ground. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  I,  "  whether  you  have 
heard  of  me.  My  name  is  Aycon." 

"  I  thought  so.     Mr.  Aycon,  I  must  tell  you 


64      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

that  you  are  very  much  to  blame.  You  have 
led  this  innocent,  though  thoughtless,  child  into 
most  deplorable  conduct." 

("  Well  done,  little  duchess  !  "  said  I  to  my- 
self ;  but  of  course  I  was  not  going  to  betray 
her.) 

"  I  deeply  regret  my  thoughtlessness,"  said  I 
earnestly.  "  I  would,  however,  observe  that  the 
present  position  of  the  duchess  is  not  due  to 
my — shall  we  say  misconduct  ? — but  to  that  of 
her  husband.  I  did  not  invite " 

"  Don't  mention  her  name  !  "  interrupted  the 
Mother  Superior  in  horror. 

We  had  reached  the  arched  gateway;  and 
there  appeared  standing  within  it  a  figure  most 
charmingly  inappropriate  to  a  graveyard — the 
duchess  herself,  looking  as  fresh  as  a  daisy,  and 
as  happy  as  a  child  with  a  new  toy.  She  ran  to 
me,  holding  out  both  hands  and  crying  : 

"  Ah,  my  dear,  dear  Mr.  Aycon,  you  are  the 
most  delightful  man  alive !  You  come  at  the 
very  moment  I  want  you." 

"  Be  sober,  my  child,  be  sober  !  "  murmured 
the  old  lady. 

"  But  I  want  to  hear,"  expostulated  the 
duchess.  "  Do  you  know  anything,  Mr.  Aycon  ? 
What  has  been  happening  up  at  the  house  ? 
What  has  the  duke  done  ?  " 

As  the  duchess  poured  out  her  questions,  we 
passed  through  the  gate  ;  the  ladies  sat  down 
on  a  stone  bench  just  inside,  and  I,  standing, 
told  my  story.  The  duchess  was  amused  to 
hear  of  old  Jean's  chase  of  her ;  but  she  showed 
no  astonishment  till  I  told  her  that  Marie  Del- 


HEARD    THROUGH   THE  DOOR.  65 

hasse  was  at  the  hotel  in  Avranches,  and  had 
declined  to  go  further  on  her  journey  to-day. 

"  At  the  hotel  ?  Then  you've  seen  her  ?  "  she 
burst  out.  "  What  is  she  like?  " 

"  She  is  most  extremely  handsome,"  said  I. 
"  Moreover,  I  am  inclined  to  like  her." 

The  Mother  Superior  opened  her  lips — to  re- 
prove me,  no  doubt ;  but  the  duchess  was  too 
quick. 

"  Oh,  you  like  her  ?  Perhaps  you're  going  to 
desert  me  and  go  over  to  her? "she  cried  in 
indignation,  that  was,  I  think,  for  the  most  part 
feigned.  Certainly  the  duchess  did  not  look 
very  alarmed.  But  in  regard  to  what  she  said, 
the  old  lady  was  bound  to  have  a  word. 

11  What  is  Mr.  Aycon  to  you,  my  child  ?  " 
said  she  solemnly.  "  He  is  nothing — nothing 
at  all  to  you,  my  child." 

"  Well,  I  want  him  to  be  less  than  nothing  to 
Mile.  Delhasse,"  said  the  duchess,  with  a  pout 
for  her  protector  and  a  glance  for  me. 

"  Mile.  Delhasse  is  very  angry  with  me  just 
now,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  why  ?  "  asked  the  duchess  eagerly. 

"  Because  she  gathered  that  I  thought  she 
ought  to  wait  for  an  invitation  from  you,  before 
she  went  to  your  house." 

"  She  should  wait  till  the  Day  of  Judgment ! " 
cried  the  duchess. 

"  That  would  not  matter,"  observed  the 
Mother  Superior  dryly. 

Suddenly,  without  pretext  or  excuse,  the 
duchess  turned  and  walked  very  quickly — nay, 
she  almost  ran — away  along  the  path  that  en- 


66      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

circled  the  group  of  graves.  Her  eye  had  bidden 
me,  and  I  followed  no  less  briskly.  I  heard  a 
despairing  sigh  from  the  poor  old  lady,  but  she 
had  no  chance  of  overtaking  us.  The  audacious 
movement  was  successful. 

"  Now  we  can  talk,"  said  the  duchess. 

And  talk  she  did,  for  she  threw  at  me  the 
startling  assertion  : 

"  I  believe  you're  falling  in  love  with  Mile. 
Delhasse.  If  you  do,  I'll  never  speak  to  you 
again  ! " 

"  If  I  do,"  said  I,  "  I  shall  probably  accept 
that  among  the  other  disadvantages  of  the 
entanglement." 

"  That's  very  rude,"  observed  the  duchess. 

"  Nothing  with  an  'if  in  it  is  rude,"  said  I 
speciously. 

"  Men  must  be  always  in  love  with  some- 
body," said  she  resentfully. 

"  It  certainly  approaches  a  necessity,"  I 
assented. 

The  duchess  glanced  at  me.  Perhaps  I  had 
glanced  at  her  ;  I  hope  not. 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  she,  "  hadn't  we  better  talk 
business  ?  " 

"  Infinitely  better,"  said  I ;  and  I  meant  it. 

"  What  am  I  to  do  ?"  she  asked,  with  a  return 
to  her  more  friendly  manner. 

"  Nothing,"  said  I. 

It  is  generally  the  safest  advice— to  women  at 
all  events. 

"  You  are  content  with  the  position  ?  You 
like  being  at  the  hotel  perhaps  ?  " 

"  Should  I  not  be  hard  to  please,  if  I  didn't  ?  " 


HEARD    THROUGH  THE  DOOR.  67 

"  I  know  you  are  trying  to  annoy  me,  but  you 
shan't.  Mr.  Aycon,  suppose  my  husband  comes 
over  to  Avranches,  and  sees  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  thought  of  that." 

"  Well,  what  have  you  decided  ?  " 

"  Not  to  think  about  it  till  it  happens.  But 
won't  he  be  thinking  more  about  you  than  me  ?  " 

"  He  won't  do  anything  about  me,"  she  said. 
"  In  the  first  place,  he  will  want  no  scandal.  In 
the  second,  he  does  not  want  me.  But  he  will 
come  over  to  see  her." 

"  Her  "  was,  of  course,  Marie  Delhasse.  The 
duchess  assigned  to  her  the  sinister  distinction 
of  the  simple  pronoun. 

"  Surely  he  will  take  means  to  get  you  to  go 
back  ?  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  If  he  could  have  caught  me  before  I  got 
here,  he  would  have  been  glad.  Now  he  will 
wait ;  for  if  he  came  here  and  claimed  me,  what 
he  proposed  to  do  would  become  known." 

There  seemed  reason  in  this ;  the  duchess 
calculated  shrewdly. 

"  In  fact,"  said  I,  "  I  had  better  go  back  to 
the  hotel." 

"  That  does  not  seem  to  vex  you  much." 

"  Well,  I  can't  stay  here,  can  I  ?  "  said  I, 
looking  round  at  the  nunnery.  "  It  would  be 
irregular,  you  know." 

"  You  might  go  to  another  hotel,"  suggested 
she. 

"  It  is  most  important  that  I  should  watch 
what  is  going  on  at  my  present  hotel,"  said  I 
gravely ;  for  I  did  not  wish  to  move. 

"  You  are  the  most "  began  the  duchess. 


68      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

But  this  bit  of  character-reading  was  lost. 
Slow  but  sure,  the  Mother  Superior  was  at  our 
elbows. 

"  Adieu,  Mr.  Aycon,"  said  she. 

I  felt  sure  that  she  must  manage  the  nuns 
admirably. 

"  Adieu  !  "  said  I,  as  though  there  was  noth- 
ing else  to  be  said. 

"  Adieu  ! "  said  the  duchess,  as  though  she 
would  have  liked  to  say  something  else. 

And  all  in  a  moment  I  was  through  the  gate- 
way and  crossing  the  paddock.  But  the  duchess 
ran  to  the  gate,  crying : 

"  Mind  you  come  again  to-morrow !  " 

My  expedition  consumed  nearly  two  hours ; 
and  one  o'clock  struck  from  the  tower  of  the 
church  as  I  slowly  climbed  the  hill,  feeling  (I 
must  admit  it)  that  the  rest  of  the  day  would 
probably  be  rather  dull.  Just  as  I  reached  the 
top,  however,  I  came  plump  on  Mine.  Del- 
hasse,  who  appeared  to  be  taking  a  walk.  She 
bowed  to  me  slightly  and  coldly.  Glad  that 
she  was  so  distant  (for  I  did  not  like  her  looks), 
I  returned  her  salute,  and  pursued  my  way  to 
the  hotel.  In  the  porch  of  it  stood  the  waiter — 
my  friend  who  had  taken  such  an  obliging  view 
of  my  movements  the  night  before.  Directly  he 
saw  me,  he  came  out  into  the  road  to  meet  me. 

"  Are  you  acquainted  with  the  ladies  who  have 
rooms  on  the  first  floor  ?  "  he  asked  with  an  air 
of  mystery. 

"  I  met  them  here  for  the  first  time,"  said  I. 

I  believe  he  doubted  me  ;  perhaps  waiters  are 
bred  to  suspicion  by  the  things  they  see. 


HEARD   THROUGH  THE  DOOR.  69 

"  Ah  !  "  said  he,  "  then  it  does  not  interest 
you  to  know  that  a  gentleman  has  been  to  see 
the  young  lady  ?  " 

I  took  out  ten  francs. 

"  Yes,  it  does,"  said  I,  handing  him  the 
money.  "  Who  was  it  ?  " 

"  The  Duke  of  Saint-Maclou,"  he  whispered 
mysteriously. 

"  Is  he  gone  ?  "  I  asked  in  some  alarm.  I 
had  no  wish  to  encounter  him. 

"  This  half-hour,  sir." 

"  Did  he  see  both  the  ladies  ?  " 

"  No  ;  only  the  young  lady.  Madame  went 
out  immediately  on  his  arrival,  and  is  not  yet 
returned." 

"  And  mademoiselle?  " 

"  She  is  in  her  room." 

Thinking  I  had  not  got  much,  save  good  will, 
for  my  ten  francs — for  he  told  me  nothing  but 
what  I  had  expected  to  hear — I  was  about 
to  pass  on,  when  he  added,  in  a  tone  which 
seemed  more  significant  than  the  question 
demanded  : 

"  Are  you  going  up  to  your  room,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  said  I. 

"  Permit  me  to  show  you  the  way,"  he  said — 
though  his  escort  seemed  to  me  very  unneces- 
sary. 

He  mounted  before  me.  We  reached  the 
first  floor.  Opposite  to  us,  not  three  yards 
away,  was  the  door  of  the  sitting-room  which  I 
knew  to  be  occupied  by  the  Delhasses. 

"  Go  on,"  said  I. 

"  In  a  moment,  sir,"  he  said. 


70      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

Then  he  held  up  his  hand  in  the  attitude  of  a 
man  who  listens. 

"  One  should  not  listen,"  he  whispered,  apolo- 
getically ;  "  but  it  is  so  strange.  I  thought  that 
if  you  knew  the  lady Hark  !  " 

I  knew  that  we  ought  not  to  listen.  But  the 
mystery  of  the  fellow's  manner  and  the  concern 
of  his  air  constrained  me,  and  I  too  paused, 
listening. 

From  behind  the  door  there  came  to  our 
strained  attentive  ears  the  sound  of  a  woman 
sobbing.  I  sought  the  waiter's  eyes  ;  they  were 
already  bent  on  me.  Again  the  sad  sounds 
came — low,  swift,  and  convulsive.  It  went  to 
my  heart  to  hear  them.  I  did  not  know  what 
to  do.  To  go  on  upstairs  to  my  own  room  and 
mind  my  own  business  seemed  the  simple 
thing — simple,  easy,  and  proper.  But  my  feet 
were  glued  to  the  boards.  I  could  not  go,  with 
that  sound  beating  on  my  ears :  I  should  hear 
it  all  the  day.  I  glanced  again  at  the  waiter. 
He  was  a  kind-looking  fellow,  and  I  saw  the 
tears  standing  in  his  eyes. 

"  And  mademoiselle  is  so  beautiful ! "  he 
whispered. 

"  What  the  devil  business  is  it  of  yours  ?  " 
said  I,  in  a  low  but  fierce  tone. 

"  None,"  said  he.  "  I  am  content  to  leave  it 
to  you,  sir  ;  "  and  without  more  he  turned  and 
went  downstairs. 

It  was  all  very  well  to  leave  it  to  me ;  but 
what — failing  that  simple,  easy,  proper,  and 
impossible  course  of  action  which  I  have  indi- 
cated— was  I  to  do  ? 


HEARD   THROUGH  THE  DOOR.  71 

Well,  what  I  did  was  this  :  I  went  to  the 
door  of  the  room  and  knocked  softly.  There 
was  no  answer.  The  sobs  continued.  I  had 
been  a  brute  to  this  girl  in  the  morning ;  I 
thought  of  that  as  I  stood  outside. 

"  My  God  !  what's  the  matter  with  her  ?  "  I 
whispered. 

And  then  I  opened  the  door  softly. 

Marie  Delhasse  sat  in  a  chair,  her  head  rest- 
ing in  her  hands  and  her  hands  on  the  table  ; 
and  her  body  was  shaken  with  her  weeping. 

And  on  the  table,  hard  by  her  bowed  golden 
head,  there  lay  a  square  leathern  box.  I  stood 
on  the  threshold  and  looked  at  her. 

The  rest  of  the  day  did  not  now  seem  likely 
to  be  dull  ;  but  it  might  prove  to  have  in  store 
for  me  more  difficult  tasks  than  the  enduring  of 
a  little  dullness. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
tbat  f  Care, 


[|OR  a  moment  I  stood  stock  still,  wish- 
ing to  Heaven  that  I  had  not  opened 
the  door;  for  I  could  find  now  no 
excuse  for  my  intrusion,  and  no 
reason  why  I  should  not  have  minded  my  own 
business.  The  impulse  that  had  made  the 
thing  done  was  exhausted  in  the  doing  of  it. 
Retreat  became  my  sole  object  ;  and,  drawing 
back,  I  pulled  the  door  after  me.  But  I  had 
given  Fortune  a  handle  —  very  literally  ;  for  the 
handle  of  the  door  grated  loud  as  I  turned  it. 
Despairing  of  escape,  I  stood  still.  Marie  Del- 
hasse  looked  up  with  a  start. 

"  Who's  there  ?  "  she  cried  in  frightened 
tones,  hastily  pressing  her  handkerchief  to  her 
eyes. 

There  was  no  help  for  it.  I  stepped  inside, 
saying  : 

"  I'm  ashamed  to  say  that  I  am." 

I  deserved  and  expected  an  outburst  of  in- 
dignation. My  surprise  was  great  when  she 
sank  against  the  back  of  the  chair  with  a  sigh 
of  relief.  I  lingered  awkwardly  just  inside  the 
threshold. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?    Why  did  you  come 


/  FIND   THA  T  I  CARE.  73 

in  ?  "  she  asked,  but  rather  in  bewilderment 
than  anger. 

"  I  was  passing  on  my  way  upstairs,  and — 
and  you  seemed  to  be  in  distress." 

"  Did  I  make  such  -a  noise  as  that  ?  "  said 
she.  "  I'm  as  bad  as  a  child  ;  but  children  cry 
because  they  mustn't  do  things,  and  I  because 
I  must." 

We  appeared  to  be  going  to  talk.  I  shut  the 
door. 

"  My  intrusion  is  most  impertinent,"  said  I. 
"  You  have  every  right  to  resent  it." 

"  Oh,  have  I  the  right  to  resent  anything  ? 
Did  you  think  so  this  morning  ? "  she  asked 
impetuously. 

"  The  morning,"  I  observed,  "  is  a  terribly 
righteous  time  with  me.  I  must  beg  your  par- 
don for  what  I  said." 

"You  think  the  same  still?"  she  retorted 
quickly. 

"  That  is  no  excuse  for  having  said  it,"  I  re- 
turned. "  It  was  not  my  affair." 

"  It  is  nobody's  affair,  I  suppose,  but  mine." 

"  Unless  you  allow  it  to  be,"  said  I.  I  could 
not  endure  the  desolation  her  words  and  tone 
implied. 

She  looked  at  me  curiously. 

"  I  don't  understand,"  she  said  in  a  fretfully 
weary  tone,  "  how  you  come  to  be  mixed  up  in 
it  at  all." 

"  It's  a  long  story."  Then  I  went  on 
abruptly :  "  You  thought  it  was  someone  else 
that  had  entered." 

"  Well,  if  I  did  ?  " 


74      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  Someone  returning,"  said  I  stepping  up  to 
the  table  opposite  her. 

"  What  then  ?  "  she  asked,  but  wearily  and 
not  in  the  defiant  manner  of  the  morning. 

"  Mme.  Delhasse  perhaps,  or  perhaps  the 
Duke  of  Saint-Maclou  ?  " 

Marie  Delhasse  made  no  answer.  She  sat 
with  her  elbows  on  the  table,  and  her  chin  rest- 
ing on  the  support  of  her  clenched  hands  ;  her 
lids  drooped  over  her  eyes  ;  and  I  could  not  see 
the  expression  of  her  glance,  which  was,  never- 
theless, upon  me. 

"  Well,  well,"  I  continued,  "  we  needn't  talk 
about  him.  Have  you  been  doing  some  shop- 
ping ?  "  And  I  pointed  to  the  red  leathern 
box. 

For  full  half  a  minute  she  sat,  without  speech 
or  movement.  Then  she  said  in  answer  to  my 
question,  which  she  could  not  take  as  an  idle 
one : 

"  Yes,  I  have  been  doing  some  bargaining." 

"  Is  that  the  result  ?  " 

Again  she  paused  long  before  she  answered. 

"  That,"  said  she,  "  is  a  trifle — thrown  in." 

"  To  bind  the  bargain  ?  "  I  suggested. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Aycon — to  bind  the  bargain." 

"  Is  it  allowed  to  look  ?  " 

"  I  think  everything  must  be  allowed  to  you. 
You  would  be  so  surprised  if  it  were  not." 

I  understood  that  she  was  aiming  a  satirical 
remark  at  me  :  I  did  not  mind  that ;  she  had 
better  flay  me  alive  than  sit  and  cry. 

"  Then  I  may  open  the  box  ?  " 

"  The  key  is  in  it." 


/  FIND   THA  T  I  CARE.  75 

I  drew  the  box  across,  and  I  took  a  chair 
that  stood  by.  I  turned  the  key  of  the  box.  A 
glance  showed  me  Marie's  drooped  lids  half 
raised  and  her  eyes  fixed  on  my  face. 

I  opened  the  box  :  there  lay  in  it,  in  sparkling 
coil  on  the  blue  velvet,  a  magnificent  diamond 
necklace  ;  one  great  stone  formed  a  pendent, 
and  it  was  on  this  stone  that  I  fixed  my  regard. 
I  took  it  up  and  looked  at  it  closely ;  then  I 
examined  the  necklace  itself.  Marie's  eyes 
followed  my  every  motion. 

"You  like  these  trinkets  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  in  that  tone  in  which  "  yes  " 
is  stronger  than  a  thousand  words  of  rapture  ; 
and  the  depths  of  her  eyes  caught  fire  from  the 
stones,  and  gleamed. 

"  But  you  know  nothing  about  them,"  I  pur- 
sued composedly. 

"  I  suppose  they  are  valuable,"  said  she,  mak- 
ing an  effort  after  nonchalance. 

"  They  have  some  value,"  I  conceded,  smil- 
ing. "  But  I  mean  about  their  history." 

"  They  are  bought,  I  suppose — bought  and 
sold." 

"  I  happen  to  know  just  a  little  about  such 
things.  In  fact,  I  have  a  book  at  home  in  which 
the're  is  a  picture  of  this  necklace.  It  is  known 
as  the  Cardinal's  Necklace.  The  stones  were 
collected  by  Cardinal  Armand  de  Saint-Maclou, 
Archbishop  of  Caen,  some  thirty  years  ago. 
They  were  set  by  Lebeau  of  Paris,  on  the  order 
of  the  cardinal,  and  were  left  by  him  to  his 
nephew,  our  friend  the  duke.  Since  his  mar- 
riage, the  duchess  has  of  course  worn  them." 


76      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

All  this  I  said  in  a  most  matter-of-fact  tone. 

"  Do  you  mean  that  they  belong  to  her  ?  " 
asked  Marie,  with  a  sudden  lift  of  her  eyes. 

"  I  don't  know.  Strictly,  I  should  think  not," 
said  I  impassively. 

Marie  Delhasse  stretched  out  her  hand  and 
began  to  ringer  the  stones. 

"  She  wore  them,  did  she  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  Ah !  I  supposed  they  had  just  been 
bought."  And  she  took  her  fingers  off  them. 

"  It  would  take  a  large  sum  to  do  that — to 
buy  them  en  bloc"  I  observed. 

"  How  much  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know !  The  market  varies  so 
much  :  perhaps  a  million  francs,  perhaps  more. 
You  can't  tell  how  much  people  will  give  for 
such  things." 

"  No,  it  is  difficult,"  she  assented,  again 
fingering  the  necklace,  "  to  say  what  people 
will  give  for  them." 

I  leaned  back  in  my  chair.  There  was  a 
pause.  Then  her  eyes  suddenly  met  mine 
again,  and  she  exclaimed  defiantly  : 

"  Oh,  you  know  very  well  what  it  means  ! 
What's  the  good  of  fencing  about  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  what  it  means,"  said  I. 
"  When  have  you  promised  to  go  ?  " 

"  To-morrow,"  she  answered. 

"  Because  of  this  thing  ?  "  and  I  pointed  to 
the  necklace. 

"  Because  of How  dare  you  ask  me 

such  questions  ! " 

I  rose  from  my  seat  and  bowed. 


/  FIND   THA  T  I  CARE.  77 

"  You  are  going  ?  "  she  asked,  her  ringers  on 
the  necklace,  and  her  eyes  avoiding  mine. 

"  I  have  the  honor,"  said  I,  "  to  enjoy  the 
friendship  of  the  Duchess  of  Saint-Maclou." 

"  And  that  forbids  you  to  enjoy  mine?  " 

I  bowed  assent  to  her  inference.  She  sat 
still  at  the  table,  her  chin  on  her  hands.  I  was 
about  to  leave  her,  when  it  struck  me  all  in  a 
moment  that  leaving  her  was  not  exactly  the 
best  thing  to  do,  although  it  might  be  much  the 
easiest.  I  arrested  my  steps. 

"  Well,"  she  asked,  "  is  not  our  acquaintance 
ended  ?  " 

And  she  suddenly  opened  her  hands  and 
hid  her  face  in  them.  It  was  a  strange  con- 
clusion to  a  speech  so  coldly  and  distantly 
begun. 

"  For  God's  sake,  don't  go  !  "  said  I,  bending 
a  little  across  the  table  toward  her. 

"  What's  it  to  you  ?  What's  it  to  anybody  ?  " 
came  from  between  her  fingers. 

"  Your  mother "  1  began. 

She  dropped  her  hands  from  her  face,  and 
laughed.  It  was  a  laugh  the  like  of  which  I 
hope  not  to  hear  again.  Then  she  broke  out : 

"  Why  wouldn't  she  have  me  in  the  house  ? 
Why  did  she  run  away  ?  Am  I  unfit  to  touch 
her  ?  " 

"  If  she  were  wrong,  you're  doing  your  best 
to  make  her  right." 

"  If  everybody  thinks  one  wicked,  one  may  as 
well  be  wicked,  and — and  live  in  peace." 

"  And  get  diamonds  ?  "  I  added.  "  Weren't 
you  wicked  ?  " 


78      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  No,"  she  said,  looking  me  straight  in 
the  face.  "But  what  difference  did  that 
make  ?  " 

"  None  at  all,  in  one  point  of  view,"  said  I. 
But  to  myself  I  was  swearing  that  she  should 
not  go. 

Then  she  said  in  a  very  low  tone : 

"  He  never  leaves  me.  Ah !  he  makes  every- 
one think " 

"  Let  'em  think,"  said  I. 

"  If  everyone  thinks  it " 

"  Oh,  come,  nonsense  !  "  said  I. 

"  You  know  what  you  thought.  What  honest 
woman  would  have  anything  to  do  with  me — 
or  what  honest  man  either  ?  " 

I  had  nothing  to  say  about  that ;  so  I  said 
again. 

"  Well,  don't  go,  anyhow." 

She  spoke  in  lower  tones,  as  she  answered 
this  appeal  of  mine  : 

"  I  daren't  refuse.  He'll  be  here  again  ;  and 
my  mother " 

"  Put  it  off  a  day  or  two,"  said  I.  "And 
don't  take  that  thing." 

She  looked  at  me,  it  seemed  to  me,  in 
astonishment. 

"  Do  you  really  care  ?  "  she  asked,  speaking 
very  low. 

I  nodded.     I  did  care,  somehow. 

"  Enough  to  stand  by  me,  if  I  don't  go  ?  " 

I  nodded  again. 

"  I  daren't  refuse  right  out.  My  mother  and 
he " 

She  broke  off. 


/  FIND   THA  T  I  CARE.  79 

"  Have  something  the  matter  with  you : 
flutters  or  something,"  I  suggested. 

The  ghost  of  a  smile  appeared  on  her  face. 

"  You'll  stay  ?  "  she  asked. 

I  had  to  stay,  anyhow.  Perhaps  I  ought  to 
have  said  so,  and  not  stolen  credit ;  but  all  I 
did  was  to  nod  again. 

"  And,  if  I  ask  you,  you'll — you'll  stand 
between  me  and  him  ?  " 

I  hoped  that  my  meeting  with  the  duke  would 
not  be  in  a  strong  light ;  but  I  only  said : 

"  Rather !    I'll  do  anything  I  can,  of  course." 

She  did  not  thank  me;  she  looked  at  me 
again.  Then  she  observed. 

"  My  mother  will  be  back  soon." 

"  And  I  had  better  not  be  here  ?  " 

"  No." 

I  advanced  to  the  table  again,  and  laid  my 
hand  on  the  box  containing  the  Cardinal's 
necklace. 

"  Ai.  J  this  ?  "  I  asked  in  a  careless  tone. 

"  Ought  I  to  send  them  back  ?  " 

"  You  don't  want  to?" 

"  What's  the  use  of  saying  I  do  ?  I  love 
them.  Besides,  he'll  see  through  it.  He'll 
know  that  I  mean  I  won't  come.  I  daren't — 
I  daren't  show  him  that !  "  , 

Then  I  made  a  little  venture ;  for,  fingering 
the  box  idly,  I  said  : 

"  It  would  be  uncommonly  handsome  of  you 
to  give  'em  to  the  duchess." 

"  To  the  duchess  ?  "  she  gasped  in  wondering 
tones. 

"  You  see,"  I  remarked,  "  either  they  are  the 


80      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

duchess',  in  which  case  she  ought  to  have 
them  ;  or,  if  they  were  the  duke's,  they're  yours 
now,  and  you  can  do  what  you  like  with 
them." 

"  He  gave  them  me  on — on  a  condition." 

"  A  condition,"  said  I,  "  no  gentleman  could 
mention,  and  no  law  enforce." 

She  blushed  scarlet,  but  sat  silent. 

"  Revenge  is  sweet,"  said  I.  "  She  ran  away 
rather  than  meet  you.  You  send  her  her 
diamonds  !  " 

A  sudden  gleam  shot  into  Marie  Delhasse's 
eyes. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  yes."  And  stopped, 
thinking,  with  her  hands  clasped. 

"You  send  them  by  me,"  I  pursued,  delighted 
with  the  impression  which  my  suggestion  had 
made  upon  her. 

"  By  you  ?  YOU  see  her,  then  ?  "  she  asked 
quickly. 

"  Occasionally,"  I  answered.  The  duchess' 
secret  was  not  mine,  and  I  did  not  say  where  I 
saw  her. 

"  I'll  give  them  to  you,"  said  Marie — "-to 
you,  not  to  the  duchess." 

"  I  won't  have  'em  at  any  price,"  said  I. 
"  Come,  your  mother  will  be  back  soon.  I 
believe  you  want  to  keep  'em."  And  I  assumed 
a  disgusted  air. 

"  I  don't !  "  she  flashed  out  passionately.  "  I 
don't  want  to  touch  them  !  I  wouldn't  keep 
them  for  the  world  !  " 

I  looked  at  my  watch.  With  a  swift  motion, 
Marie  Delhasse  leaped  from  her  chair,  dashed 


/  FIND   THAT  I  CARE.  8 1 

down  the  lid  of  the  box,  hiding  the  glitter  of  the 
stones,  seized  the  box  in  her  two  hands  and 
with  eyes  averted  held  it  out  to  me. 

"  For  the  duchess  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes,  for  the  duchess,"  said  Marie,  with 
averted  eyes. 

I  took  the  box,  and  stowed  it  in  the  capa- 
cious pocket  of  the  shooting-jacket  which  I  was 
wearing. 

"  Go  !  "  said  Marie,  pointing  to  the  door. 

I  held  out  my  hand.  She  caught  it  in  hers. 
Upon  my  word,  I  thought  she  was  going  to 
kiss  it.  So  strongly  did  I  think  it  that,  hating 
fuss  of  that  sort,  I  made  a  half-motion  to  pull  it 
away.  However,  I  was  wrong.  She  merely 
pressed  it  and  let  it  drop. 

"  Cheer  up !  cheer  up !  I'll  turn  up  again 
soon,"  said  I,  and  I  left  the  room. 

And  left  in  the  nick  of  time  ;  for  at  the  very 
moment  when  I,  hugging  the  lump  in  my  coat 
which  marked  the  position  of  the  Cardinal's 
Necklace,  reached  the  foot  of  the  stairs  Mme. 
Delhasse  appeared  on  her  way  up. 

"  Oh,  you  old  viper  !  "  I  murmured  thought- 
lessly, in  English. 

"  Pardon,  monsieur  ?  "  said  Mme.  Delhasse. 

"  Forgive  me  :  I  spoke  to  myself — a  foolish 
habit,"  I  rejoined,  with  a  low  bow  and,  I'm 
afraid,  a  rather  malicious  smile.  The  old  lady 
glared  at  me,  bobbed  her  head  the  slightest  bit 
in  the  world,  and  passed  me  by. 

I  went  out  into  the  sunshine,  whistling 
merrily.  My  good  friend  the  waiter  stood  by 
the  door.  His  eyes  asked  me  a  question. 


82      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  She  is  much  better,"  I  said  reassuringly. 
And  I  walked  out,  still  whistling  merrily. 

In  truth  I  was  very  pleased  with  myself. 
Every  man  likes  to  think  that  he  understands 
women.  I  was  under  the  impression  that  I  had 
proved  myself  to  possess  a  thorough  and  com- 
plete acquaintance  with  that  intricate  subject. 
I  was  soon  to  find  that  my  knowledge  had  its 
limitations.  In  fact,  I  have  been  told  more  than 
once  since  that  my  plan  was  a  most  outrageous 
one.  Perhaps  it  was  ;  but  it  had  the  effect  of 
wresting  those  dangerous  stones  from  poor 
Marie's  regretful  hands.  A  man  need  not  mind 
having  made  a  fool  of  himself  once  or  twice  on 
his  way  through  the  world,  so  he  has  done  some 
good  by  the  process.  At  the  moment,  how- 
ever, I  felt  no  need  for  any  such  apology. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
Bn  TUnparallelefc  IFnsult 

WAS  thoughtful  as  I  walked  across 
the  place  in  front  of  the  church  in  the 
full  glare  of  the  afternoon  sun.  It 
was  past  four  o'clock  ;  the  town  was 
more  lively,  as  folk,  their  day's  work  finished, 
came  out  to  take  their  ease  and  filled  the  streets 
and  the  cafts.  I  felt  that  I  also  had  done  some- 
thing like  a  day's  work ;  but  my  task  was  not 
complete  till  I  had  lodged  my  precious  trust 
safely  in  the  keeping  of  the  duchess. 

There  was,  however,  still  time  to  spare,  and 
I  sat  down  at  a  cafd  and  ordered  some  coffee. 
While  it  was  being  brought  my  thoughts  played 
round  Marie  Delhasse.  I  doubted  whether  I 
disliked  her  for  being  tempted,  or  liked  her  for 
resisting  at  the  last ;  at  any  rate,  I  was  glad  to 
have  helped  her  a  little.  If  I  could  now  per- 
suade her  to  leave  Avranches,  I  should  have 
done  all  that  could  reasonably  be  expected  of 
me;  if  the  duke  pursued,  she  must  fight  the 
battle  for  herself.  So  I  mused,  sipping  my 
coffee ;  and  then  I  fell  to  wondering  what  the 
duchess  would  say  on  seeing  me  again  so  soon. 
Would  she  see  me  ?  She  must,  whether  she 
liked  it  or  not ;  I  could  not  keep  the  diamonds 
all  night.  Perhaps  she  would  like. 
83 


84      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  There  you  are  again  ! "  I  said  to  myself 
sharply,  and  I  roused  myself  from  my 
meditations. 

As  I  looked  up,  I  saw  the  man  Lafleur  oppo- 
site to  me.  He  had  his  back  toward  me,  but  I 
knew  him,  and  he  was  just  walking  into  a  shop 
that  faced  the  cafd  and  displayed  in  its  windows 
an  assortment  of  offensive  weapons — guns, 
pistols,  and  various  sorts  of  knives.  Lafleur 
went  in.  I  sat  sipping  my  coffee.  He  was 
there  nearly  twenty  minutes ;  then  he  came  out 
and  walked  leisurely  away.  I  paid  my  score 
and  strolled  over  to  the  shop.  I  wondered  what 
he  had  been  buying.  Dueling  pistols  for  the 
duke,  perhaps !  I  entered  and  asked  to  be 
shown  some  penknives.  The  shopman  served 
me  with  alacrity.  I  chose  a  cheap  knife,  and 
then  I  permitted  my  gaze  to  rest  on  a  neat  little 
pistol  that  lay  on  the  counter.  My  simple  ruse 
was  most  effective.  In  a  moment  I  was  being 
acquainted  with  all  the  merits  of  the  instru- 
ment, and  the  eulogy  was  backed  by  the  infor- 
mation that  a  gentleman  had  bought  two  pistols 
of  the  same  make  not  ten  minutes  before  I 
entered  the  shop. 

"  Really  ! "  said  I.     "  What  for  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,  sir.  It  is  a  wise  thing 
often  to  carry  one  of  these  little  fellows.  One 
never  knows." 

"  In  case  of  a  quarrel  with  another  gentle- 
man ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  are  hardly  such  as  we  sell  for 
dueling,  sir/' 

"  Aren't  they  ?  " 


AN  UNPARALLELED  INSULT.  85 

"  They  are  rather  pocket  pistols — to  carry  if 
you  are  out  at  night ;  and  we  sell  many  to 
gentlemen  who  have  occasion  in  the  way  of 
their  business  to  carry  large  sums  of  money  or 
valuables  about  with  them.  They  give  a  sense 
of  security,  sir,  even  if  no  occasion  arises  for 
their  use." 

"  And  this  gentleman  bought  two  ?  Who 
was  he  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  sir.     He  gave  me  no  name." 

"  And  you  didn't  know  him  by  sight  ?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  perhaps  he  is  a  stranger.  But 
indeed  I'm  almost  that  myself :  I  have  but  just 
set  up  business  here." 

"  Is  it  brisk  ?  "  I  asked,  examining  the  pistol. 

11  It  is  not  a  brisk  place,  sir,"  the  man 
answered  regretfully.  "  Let  me  sell  you  one, 
sir ! " 

It  happened  to  be,  for  the  moment,  in  the 
way  of  my  business  to  carry  valuables,  but  I 
hoped  it  would  not  be  for  long,  so  that  I  did 
not  buy  a  pistol ;  but  I  allowed  myself  to 
wonder  what  my  friend  Lafleur  wanted  with 
two — and  they  were  not  dueling  pistols !  If  I 
had  been  going  to  keep  the  diamonds — but  then 
I  was  not.  And,  reminded  by  this  reflection,  I 
set  out  at  once  for  the  convent. 

Now  the  manner  in  which  the  Duchess  of 
Saint-Maclou  saw  fit  to  treat  me — who  was 
desirous  only  of  serving  her — on  this  occasion 
went  far  to  make  me  disgusted  with  the  whole 
affair  into  which  I  had  been  drawn.  It  might 
have  been  supposed  that  she  would  show  grati- 
tude ;  I  think  that  even  a  little  admiration  and 


86      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

a  little  appreciation  of  my  tact  would  not  have 
been,  under  the  circumstances,  out  of  place. 
It  is  not  every  day  that  a  lady  has  such  a  thing 
as  the  Cardinal's  Necklace  rescued  from  great 
peril  and  freely  restored,  with  no  claim  (beyond 
that  for  ordinary  civility)  on  the  part  of  the 
rescuer. 

And  the  cause  did  not  lie  in  her  happening 
to  be  out  of  temper,  for  she  greeted  me  at  first 
With  much  graciousness,  and  sitting  down  on 
the  corn  bin  (she  was  permitted  on  this  occasion 
to  meet  me  in  the  stable),  she  began  to  tell  me 
that  she  had  received  a  most  polite — and  indeed 
almost  affectionate — letter  from  the  duke,  in 
which  he  expressed  deep  regret  for  her  absence, 
but  besought  her  to  stay  where  she  was  as  long 
as  the  health  of  her  soul  demanded.  He  would 
do  himself  the  honor  of  waiting  on  her  and 
escorting  her  home,  when  she  made  up  her 
mind  to  return  to  him. 

"Which  means,"  observed  the  duchess,  as 
she  replaced  the  letter  in  her  pocket,  "  that  the 
Delhasses  are  going,  and  that  if  I  go  (without 
notice  anyhow)  I  shall  find  them  there." 

"  I  read  it  in  the  same  way  ;  but  I'm  not  so 
sure  that  the  Delhasses  are  going." 

"  You  are  so  charitable,"  said  she,  still  quite 
sweetly.  "  You  can't  bring  yourself  to  think 
evil  of  anybody." 

The  duchess  chanced  to  look  so  remarkably 
calm  and  composed  as  she  sat  on  the  corn  bin 
that  I  could  not  deny  myself  the  pleasure  of 
surprising  her  with  the  sudden  apparition  of 
the  Cardinal's  Necklace.  Without  a  word,  I 


AN  UNPARALLELED  INSULT.  87 

took  the  case  out  of  my  pocket,  opened  it,  and 
held  it  out  toward  her.  For  once  the  duchess 
sat  stock-still,  her  eyes  round  and  large. 

"  Have  you  been  robbing  and  murdering  my 
husband  ?  "  she  gasped. 

With  a  very  complacent  smile  I  began  my 
story.  Who  does  not  know  what  it  is  to  begin 
a  story  with  a  triumphant  confidence  in  its 
favorable  reception  ?  Who  does  not  know  that 
first  terrible  glimmer  of  doubt  when  the  story 
seems  not  to  be  making  the  expected  impres- 
sion ?  Who  has  not  endured  the  dull  dogged 
despair  in  which  the  story,  damned  by  the 
stony  faces  of  the  auditors,  has  yet  to  drag  on 
a  hated  weary  life  to  a  dishonored  grave  ? 

These  stages  came  and  passed  as  I  related  to 
Mme.  de  Saint-Maclou  how  I  came  to  be  in  a 
position  to  hand  back  to  her  the  Cardinal's 
Necklace.  Still,  silent,  pale,  with  her  lips  curled 
in  a  scornful  smile,  she  sat  and  listened.  My 
tone  lost  its  triumphant  ring,  and  I  finished  in 
cold,  distant,  embarrassed  accents. 

"  I  have  only,"  said  I,  "  to  execute  my  com- 
mission and  hand  the  box  and  its  contents  over 
to  you." 

And,  thus  speaking,  I  laid  the  necklace  in  its 
case  on  the  corn  bin  beside  the  duchess. 

The  duchess  said  nothing  at  all.  She  looked 
at  me  once — just  once ;  and  I  wished  then  and 
there  that  I  had  listened  to  Gustave  de  Beren- 
sac's  second  thoughts  and  left  with  him  at  ten 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  Then  having  delivered 
this  barbed  shaft  of  the  eyes,  the  duchess  sat 
looking  straight  in  front  of  her,  bereft  of  her 


88      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

quick-changing  glances,  robbed  of  her  supple 
grace— like  frozen  quicksilver.  And  the  neck- 
lace glittered  away  indifferently  between  us. 

At  last  the  duchess,  her  eyes  still  fixed  on 
the  whitewashed  wall  opposite,  said  in  a  slow 
emphatic  tone  : 

"  I  wouldn't  touch  it,  if  it  were  the  crown  of 
France  ! " 

I  plucked  up  my  courage  to  answer  her.  For 
Marie  Delhasse's  sake  I  felt  a  sudden  anger. 

"  You  are  pharisaical,"  said  I.  "  The  poor 
girl  has  acted  honorably.  Her  touch  has  not 
defiled  your  necklace." 

"  Yes,  you  must  defend  what  you  persuaded," 
flashed  out  the  duchess.  "  It's  the  greatest 
insult  I  was  ever  subjected  to  in  my  life !  " 

Here  was  the  second  lady  I  had  insulted  on 
that  summer  day  ! 

"  I  did  but  suggest  it— it  was  her  own  wish." 

"  Your  suggestion  is  her  wish  !  How  charm- 
ing !  "  said  the  duchess. 

"  You  are  unjust  to  her ! "  I  said,  a  little 
warmly. 

The  duchess  rose  from  the  corn  bin,  made 
the  very  most  of  her  sixty-three  inches,  and 
remarked : 

"  It's  a  new  insult  to  mention  her  to  me/* 

I  passed  that  by ;  it  was  too  absurd  to  answer. 

"  You  must  take  it  now  I've  brought  it,"  I 
urged  in  angry  puzzle. 

The  duchess  put  out  her  hand,  grasped  the 
case  delicately,  shut  it — and  flung  it  to  the 
other  side  of  the  stable,  hard  by  where  an  old 
ass  was  placidly  eating  a  bundle  of  hay. 


AN  UNPARALLELED  INSULT.  89 

"  That's  the  last  time  I  shall  touch  it ! "  said 
she,  turning  and  looking  me  in  the  face. 

"  But  what  am  I  to  do  with  it  ?  "  I  cried. 

"  Whatever  you  please,"  returned  Mme.  de 
Saint-Maclou  ;  and  without  another  word,  with- 
out another  glance,  either  at  me  or  at  the  neck- 
lace, she  walked  out  of  the  stable,  and  left  me 
alone  with  the  necklace  and  the  ass. 

The  ass  had  given  one  start  as  the  necklace 
fell  with  a  thud  on  the  floor ;  but  he  was  old 
and  wise,  and  soon  fell  again  to  his  meal.  I 
sat  drumming  my  heels  against  the  corn  bin. 
Evening  was  falling  fast,  and  everything  was 
very  still.  No  man  ever  had  a  more  favorable 
hour  for  reflection  and  introspection.  I  em- 
ployed it  to  the  full.  Then  I  rose,  and  crossing 
the  stable,  pulled  the  long  ears  of  my  friend  who 
was  eating  the  hay. 

"  I  suppose  you  also  were  a  young  ass  once," 
said  I  with  a  rueful  smile. 

Well,  I  couldn't  leave  the  Cardinal's  Necklace 
in  the  corner  of  the  convent  stable.  I  picked 
up  the  box,  Neddy  thrust  out  his  nose  at  it. 
I  opened  it  and  let  him  see  the  contents.  He 
snuffed  scornfully  and  turned  back  to  the  hay. 

11  He  won't  take  it  either,"  said  I  to  myself, 
and  with  a  muttered  curse  I  dropped  the 
wretched  thing  back  in  the  pocket  of  my  coat, 
wishing  much  evil  to  everyone  who  had  any 
hand  in  bringing  me  into  connection  with  it, 
from  his  Eminence  the  Cardinal  Armand  de 
Saint-Maclou  down  to  the  waiter  at  the  hotel. 

Slowly  and  in  great  gloom  of  mind  I  climbed 
the  hill  again.  I  supposed  that  I  must  take  the 


go    777.5:  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

troublesome  ornament  back  to  Marie  Delhasse, 
confessing  that  my  fine  idea  had  ended  in 
nothing  save  a  direct  and  stinging  insult  fpr  her 
and  a  scathing  snub  for  me.  My  pride  made 
this  necessity  hard  to  swallow,  but  I  believe 
there  was  also  a  more  worthy  feeling  that 
caused  me  to  shrink  from  it.  I  feared  that  her 
good  resolutions  would  not  survive  such  treat- 
ment, and  that  the  rebuff  would  drive  her  head- 
long into  the  ruin  from  which  I  had  trusted 
that  she  would  be  saved.  Yet  there  was  nothing 
else  for  it.  Back  the  necklace  must  go.  I 
could  but  pray — and  earnestly  I  did  pray — that 
my  fears  might  not  be  realized. 

I  found  myself  opposite  the  gun-maker's  shop ; 
and  it  struck  me  that  I  might  probably  fail  to 
see  Marie  alone  that  evening.  I  had  no  means 
of  defense — I  had  never  thought  any  necessary. 
But  now  a  sudden  nervousness  got  hold  of  me  : 
it  seemed  to  me  as  if  my  manner  must  betray 
to  everyone  that  I  carried  the  necklace — as  if 
the  lump  in  my  coat  stood  out  conspicuous  as 
Mont  St.  Michel  itself.  Feeling  that  I  was 
doing  a  half-absurd  thing,  still  I  stepped  into 
the  shop  and  announced  that,  on  further  reflec- 
tion, I  would  buy  the  little  pistol.  The  good 
man  was  delighted  to  sell  it  to  me. 

"If  you  carry  valuables,  sir,"  he  said,  re- 
peating his  stock  recommendation,  "  it  will  give 
you  a  feeling  of  perfect  safety." 

"  I  don't  carry  valuables,"  said  I  abruptly, 
almost  rudely,  and  with  most  unnecessary 
emphasis. 

"I   did    but    suggest,    sir,"   he  apologized. 


AN  UNPARALLELED  INSULT.  Q1 

"  And  at  least,  it  may  be  that  you  will  require 
to  do  so  some  day." 

"  That,"  I  was  forced  to  admit,  "is  of  course 
not  impossible."  And  I  slid  the  pistol  and  a 
supply  of  cartridges  into  the  other  pocket  of 
my  coat. 

"  Distribute  the  load,  sir,"  advised  the  smiling 
nuisance.  "  One  side  of  your  coat  will  be 
weighed  down.  Ah,  pardon!  I  perceive  that 
there  is  already  something  in  the  other  pocket." 

"  A  sandwich-case,"  said  I ;  and  he  bowed 
with  exactly  the  smile  the  waiter  had  worn  when 
I  said  that  I  came  from  Mont  St.  Michel. 


CHAPTER  X. 
3Left  on  mg  Iban&s* 

HERE  is  nothing  else  for  it ! "  I  ex- 
claimed, as  I  set  out  for  the  hotel. 
"  I'll  go  back  to  England." 

I  could  not  resist  the  conclusion 
that  my  presence  in  Avranches  was  no  longer 
demanded.  The  duchess  had,  on  the  one  hand, 
arrived  at  a  sort  of  understanding  with  her 
husband  ;  while  she  had,  on  the  other,  con- 
trived to  create  a  very  considerable  misunder- 
standing with  me.  She  had  shown  no  gratitude 
for  my  efforts,  and  made  no  allowance  for  the 
mistakes  which,  possibly,  I  had  committed. 
She  had  behaved  so  unreasonably  as  to  release 
me  from  any  obligation.  As  to  Marie  Delhasse, 
I  had  had  enough  (so  I  declared  in  the  hasty 
disgust  my  temper  engendered)  of  Quixotic 
endeavors  to  rescue  people  who,  had  they  any 
moral  resolution,  could  well  rescue  themselves. 
There  was  only  one  thing  left  which  I  might 
with  dignity  undertake — and  that  was  to  put  as 
many  miles  as  I  could  between  the  scene  of  my 
unappreciated  labors  and  myself.  This  I  deter- 
mined to  do  the  very  next  day,  after  handing 
back  this  abominable  necklace  with  as  little 
obvious  appearance  of  absurdity  as  the  action 
would  permit. 

92 


LEFT  ON  MY  HANDS.  93 

It  was  six  o'clock  when  I  reached  the  hotel 
and  walked  straight  up  to  my  room  in  sulky 
isolation,  looking  neither  to  right  nor  left,  and 
exchanging  a  word  with  nobody.  I  tossed  the 
red  box  down  on  the  table,  and  flung  myself 
into  an  armchair.  I  had  half  a  mind  to  send 
the  box  down  to  Marie  Delhasse  by  the  waiter 
— with  my  compliments  ;  but  my  ill-humor  did 
not  carry  me  so  far  as  thus  to  risk  betraying 
her  to  her  mother,  and  I  perceived  that  I  must 
have  one  more  interview  with  her — and  the 
sooner  the  better.  I  rang  the  bell,  meaning  to 
see  if  I  could  elicit  from  the  waiter  any  informa- 
tion as  to  the  state  of  affairs  on  the  first  floor 
and  the  prospect  of  finding  Marie  alone  for  ten 
minutes. 

I  rang  once — twice — thrice  ;  the  third  was  a 
mighty  pull,  and  had  at  last  the  effect  of  bring- 
ing up  my  friend  the  waiter,  breathless,  hot, 
and  disheveled. 

"  Why  do  you  keep  me  waiting  like  this  ?  "  I 
asked  sternly. 

His  puffs  and  pants  prevented  him  from 
answering  for  a  full  half-minute. 

"  I  was  busy  on  the  first  floor,  sir,"  he  pro- 
tested at  last.  "  I  came  at  the  very  earliest 
moment." 

"  What's  going  on  on  the  first  floor  ?  " 

"  The  lady  is  in  a  great  hurry,  sir.  She  is 
going  away,  sir.  She  has  been  taking  a  hasty 
meal,  and  her  carriage  is  ordered  to  be  round  at 
the  door  this  very  minute.  And  all  the  luggage 
had  to  be  carried  down,  and " 

I  walked  to  the  window,  and,  putting  my  head 


94      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

out,  saw  a  closed  carriage,  with  four  trunks  and 
some  smaller  packages  on  the  roof,  standing  at 
the  door. 

"Where  are  they  going?  "  I  asked,  turning 
round. 

The  waiter  was  gone!  A  bell  ringing  vio- 
lently from  below  explained  his  disappearance, 
but  did  not  soothe  my  annoyance.  I  rang  my 
bell  very  forcibly  again  :  the  action  was  a  wel- 
come vent  for  my  temper.  Turning  back  to  the 
window,  I  found  the  carriage  still  there.  A 
second  or  two  later,  Mme.  Delhasse,  attended 
by  the  waiter  who  ought  to  have  been  looking 
after  me,  came  out  of  the  hotel  and  got  into  the 
carriage.  She  spoke  to  the  waiter,  and  appeared 
to  give  him  money.  He  bowed  and  closed  the 
door.  The  driver  started  his  horses  and  made 
off  at  a  rapid  pace  toward  the  carriage-road 
down  the  hill.  I  watched  till  the  vehicle  was 
out  of  sight  and  then  drew  my  head  in,  giving  a 
low  puzzled  whistle  and  forgetting  the  better 
part  of  my  irritation  in  the  interest  of  this  new 
development.  Where  was  the  old  witch  going 
— and  why  was  she  going  alone  ? 

Again  I  rang  my  bell ;  but  the  waiter  was  at 
the  door  before  it  ceased  tinkling. 

"  Where's  she  going  to  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  To  the  house  of  the  Duke  of  Saint-Maclou, 
sir,"  he  answered,  wiping  his  brow  and  sighing 
for  relief  that  he  had  got  rid  of  her. 

"  And  the  young  lady — where  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  has  already  gone,  sir." 

"  Already  gone  !  "  I  cried.  "  Gone  where  ? 
Gone  when  ?  " 


LEFT  ON  MY  HANDS.  95 

"  About  two  hours  ago,  sir — very  soon  after 
I  saw  you  go  out,  sir — a  messenger  brought  a 
letter  for  the  young  lady.  I  took  it  upstairs ; 
she  was  alone  when  I  entered.  When  she 
looked  at  the  address,  sir,  she  made  a  little  ex- 
clamation, and  tore  the  note  open  in  a  manner 
that  showed  great  agitation.  She  read  it ;  and 
when  she  had  read  it  stood  still,  holding  it  in 
her  hand  for  a  minute  or  two.  She  had  turned 
pale  and  breathed  quickly.  Then  she  signed  to 
me  with  her  hand  to  go.  But  she  stopped  me 
with  another  gesture,  and — and  then,  sir " 

"  Well,  well,  get  on  !  "  I  cried. 

"Then,  sir,  she  asked  if  you  were  in  the 
hotel,  and  I  said  no — you  had  gone  out,  I  did 
not  know  where.  Upon  that,  she  walked  to 
the  window,  and  stood  looking  out  for  a  time. 
Then  she  turned  round  to  me,  and  said  :  '  My 
mother  was  fatigued  by  her  walk,  and  is  sleep- 
ing. I  am  going  out,  but  I  do  not  wish  her 
disturbed.  I  will  write  a  note  of  explanation. 
Be  so  good  as  to  cause  it  to  be  given  to  her 
when  she  wakes.'  She  was  calm  then,  sir ;  she 
sat  down  and  wrote,  and  sealed  the  note  and 
gave  it  to  me.  Then  she  caught  up  her  hat, 
which  lay  on  the  table,  and  her  gloves  ;  and 
then,  sir,  she  walked  out  of  the  hotel." 

"  Which  way  did  she  go  ?  " 

"  She  went,  sir,  as  if  she  were  making  for  the 
footpath  down  the  hill.  An  hour  or  more 
passed,  and  then  madame's  bell  rang.  I  ran 
up  and,  finding  her  in  the  sitting  room,  I  gave 
her  the  note." 

"  And  what  did  she  say  ?  " 


9&      THE  INDISCRETION1  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  She  read  it,  and  cried  '  Ah ! '  in  great 
satisfaction,  and  immediately  ordered  a  carriage 
and  that  the  maid  should  pack  all  her  luggage 
and  the  young  lady's.  Oh  !  she  was  in  a  great 
hurry,  and  in  the  best  of  spirits ;  and  she 
pressed  us  on  so  that  I  was  not  able  to  attend 
properly  to  you,  sir.  And  finally,  as  you  saw, 
she  drove  off  to  the  house  of  the  duke,  still  in 
high  good  humor." 

The  waiter  paused.     I  sat  silent  in  thought. 

"  Is  there  anything  else  you  wish  to  know, 
sir  ?  "  asked  the  waiter. 

Then  my  much-tried  temper  gave  way 
again. 

"  I  want  to  know  what  the  devil  it  all 
means  !  "  I  roared. 

The  waiter  drew  near,  wearing  a  very  sympa- 
thetic expression.  I  knew  that  he  had  always 
put  me  down  as  an  admirer  of  Marie  Delhasse, 
He  saw  in  me  now  a  beaten  rival.  Curiously  I 
had  something  of  the  feeling  myself. 

"  There  is  one  thing,  sir,"  said  he.  "  The 
stable-boy  told  me.  The  message  for  Mile. 
Delhasse  was  brought  from  a  carriage  which 
waited  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill,  out  of  sight  of 
the  town.  And — well,  sir,  the  servants  wore  no 
livery ;  but  the  boy  declares  that  the  horses 
were  those  of  the  Duke  of  Saint-Maclou." 

I  muttered  angrily  to  myself.  The  waiter, 
discreetly  ignoring  my  words,  continued  : 

"  And,  indeed,  sir,  madame  expected  to  meet 
her  daughter.  For  I  chanced  to  ask  her  if  she 
would  take  with  her  a  bouquet  of  roses  which 
she  had  purchased  in  the  town,  and  she  an- 


LEFT  ON1  MY  HANDS.  07 

swered  :  '  Give  them  to  me.     My  daughter  will 
like  to  have  them.'  " 

The  waiter's  conclusion  was  obvious.  And 
yet  I  did  not  accept  it.  For  why,  if  Marie  were 
going  to  the  duke's,  should  she  not  have 
aroused  her  mother  and  gone  with  her  ?  That 
the  duke  had  sent  his  carriage  for  her  was 
likely  enough  ;  that  he  would  cause  it  to  wait 
outside  the  town  was  not  impossible ;  that 
Marie  had  told  her  mother  that  she  had  gone 
to  the  duke's  was  also  clear  from  that  lady's 
triumphant  demeanor.  But  that  she  had  in 
reality  gone,  I  could  not  believe.  A  sudden 
thought  struck  me. 

"  Did  Mile.  Delhasse,"  I  asked,  "  send  any 
answer  to  the  note  that  came  from  the  car- 
riage ?  " 

"  Ah,  sir,  I  forgot.  Certainly.  She  wrote  an 
answer,  and  the  messenger  carried  it  away  with 
him." 

"  And  did  the  boy  you  speak  of  see  anything 
more  of  the  carriage  ?  " 

"  He  did  not  pass  that  way  again,  sir." 

My  mind  was  now  on  the  track  of  IViarie's 
device.  The  duke  had  sent  his  carriage  to 
fetch  her.  She,  left  alone,  unable  to  turn  to 
me  for  guidance,  determined  not  to  go ;  afraid 
to  defy  him— more  afraid,  no  doubt,  because 
she  could  no  longer  produce  the  necklace — had 
played  a  neat  trick.  She  must  have  sent  a 
message  to  the  duke  that  she  would  come  with 
her  mother  immediately  that  the  necessary 
preparations  could  be  made ;  she  had  then 
written  a  note  to  her  mother  to  tell  her  that  she 


9»      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

had  gone  in  the  duke's  carriage  and  looked  to 
her  mother  to  follow  her.  And  having  thus 
thrown  both  parties  on  a  false  scent,  she  had 
put  on  her  hat  and  walked  quietly  out  of  the 
hotel.  But,  then,  where  had  she  walked  to  ? 
My  chain  of  inference  was  broken  by  that 
missing  link.  I  looked  up  at  the  waiter.  And 
then  I  cursed  my  carelessness.  For  the  waiter's 
eyes  were  no  longer  fixed  on  my  face,  but  were 
fastened  in  eloquent  curiosity  on  the  red  box 
which  lay  on  my  table.  To  my  apprehensive 
fancy  the  Cardinal's  Necklace  seemed  to  glitter 
through  the  case.  That  did  not  of  course 
happen  ;  but  a  jewel  case  is  easy  to  recognize, 
and  I  knew  in  a  moment  that  the  waiter  dis- 
cerned the  presence  of  precious  stones.  Our 
eyes  met.  In  my  puzzle  I  could  do  nothing  but 
smile  feebly  and  apologetically.  The  waiter 
smiled  also — but  his  was  a  smile  of  compassion 
and  condolence.  He  took  a  step  nearer  to  me, 
and  with  infinite  sympathy  in  his  tone  observed  : 

"  Ah,  well,  sir,  do  not  despair  !  A  gentleman 
like  you  will  soon  find  another  lady  to  value  the 
present  more." 

In  spite  of  my  vanity — and  I  was  certainly 
not  presenting  myself  in  a  very  triumphant 
guise  to  the  waiter's  imagination — I  jumped  at 
the  mistake. 

"  They  are  capricious  creatures  !  "  said  I  with 
a  shrug.  "  I'll  trouble  myself  no  more  about 
them." 

"  You're  right,  sir,  you're  right.  It's  one  one 
day,  and  another  another.  It's  a  pity,  sir,  to 
waste  thought  on  them — much  more,  good 


LEFT  ON  MY  HANDS.  99 

money.  You  will  dine  to-night,  sir  ?  "  and  his 
tone  took  a  consolatory  inflection. 

"  Certainly  I  will  dine,"  said  I  ;  and  with  a 
last  nod  of  intelligence  and  commiseration,  he 
withdrew. 

And  then  I  leaped,  like  a  wild  cat,  on  the  box 
that  contained  the  Cardinal's  Necklace,  intent 
on  stowing  it  away  again  in  the  seclusion  of  my 
coat-pocket.  But  again  I  stood  with  it  in  my 
hand — struck  still  with  the  thought  that  I  could 
not  now  return  it  to  Marie  Delhasse,  that  she 
had  vanished  leaving  it  on  my  hands,  and  that, 
in  all  likelihood,  in  three  or  four  hours'  time  the 
Duke  of  Saint-Maclou  would  be  scouring  the 
country  and  setting  every  spring  in  motion  in 
the  effort  to  find  the  truant  lady,  and — what  I 
thought  he  would  be  at  least  anxious  about — • 
the  truant  necklace.  For  to  give  your  family 
heirlooms  away  without  recompense  is  a  vexa- 
tious thing ;  and  ladies  who  accept  them  and 
vanish  with  them  into  space  can  claim  but  small 
consideration.  And,  moreover,  if  the  missing 
property  chance  to  be  found  in  the  possession 
of  a  gentleman  who  is  reluctant  to  explain  his 
presence,  who  has  masqueraded  as  a  groom 
with  intent  to  deceive  the  owner  of  the  said 
property,  and  has  no  visible  business  to  bring 
or  keep  him  on  the  spot  at  all — when  all  this 
happens,  it  is  apt  to  look  very  awkward  for  that 
gentleman. 

"  You  will  regret  it  if  you  don't  start  with 
me ;  "  so  said  Gustave  de  Berensac.  The  pres- 
ent was  one  of  the  moments  in  which  I  heartily 
agreed  with  his  prescient  prophecy.  Human 


100      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

nature  is  a  poor  thing.  To  speak  candidly,  I 
cannot  recollect  that,  amid  my  own  selfish  per- 
plexities, I  spared  more  than  one  brief  moment 
to  gladness  that  Marie  Delhasse  had  eluded  the 
pursuit  of  the  Duke  of  Saint-Maclou.  But  I 
spared  another  to  wishing  that  she  had  thought 
of  telling  me  to  what  haven  she  was  bound. 


CHAPTER  XL 
21  IfletB  Clever  Scbeme, 


MUST  confess  at  once  that  I  might 
easily  have  displayed  more  acumen, 
and  that  there  would  have  been  noth- 
ing wonderful  in  my  discerning  or 
guessing  the  truth  about  Marie  Delhasse's 
movements.  Yet  the  truth  never  occurred  to 
me,  never  so  much  as  suggested  itself  in  the 
shape  of  a  possible  explanation.  I  cannot  quite 
tell  why  ;  perhaps  it  conflicted  too  strongly  with 
the  idea  of  her  which  possessed  me  ;  perhaps  it 
was  characteristic  of  a  temperament  so  different 
from  my  own  that  I  could  not  anticipate  it.  At 
any  rate,  be  the  reason  what  it  may,  I  did  not 
seriously  doubt  that  Marie  Delhasse  had  cut  the 
cords  which  bound  her  by  a  hasty  flight  from 
Avranches  ;  and  my  conviction  was  deepened 
by  my  knowledge  that  an  evening  train  left  for 
Paris  just  about  half  an  hour  after  Marie,  hav- 
ing played  her  trick  on  her  mother  and  on  the 
Duke  of  Saint-Maclou,  had  walked  out  of  the 
hotel,  no  man  and  no  woman  hindering  her. 

Under  these  circumstances,  my  work  —  im- 
posed and  voluntary  alike  —  was  done  ;  and  the 
cheering  influence  of  the  dinner  to  which  I 
sat  down  so  awoke  my  mind  to  fresh  agility 


102    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

that  I  found  the  task  of  disembarrassing  myself 
of  that  old  man  of  the  sea— the  Cardinal's  Neck- 
lace— no  longer  so  hopeless  as  it  had  appeared 
in  the  hungry  disconsolate  hour  before  my  meal. 
Nay,  I  saw  my  way  to  performing,  incidentally, 
a  final  service  to  Marie  by  creating  in  the  mind 
of  the  duke  such  chagrin  and  anger  as  would,  I 
hoped,  disincline  him  from  any  pursuit  of  her. 
If  I  could,  by  one  stroke,  restore  him  his 
diamonds  and  convince  him,  not  of  Mane's 
virtue,  but  of  her  faithlessness,  I  trusted  to  be 
humbly  instrumental  in  freeing  her  from  his 
importunity,  and  of  restoring  the  jewels  to  the 
duchess — nay,  of  restoring  to  her  also  the  undis- 
turbed possession  of  her  home  and  of  the  society 
of  her  husband.  At  this  latter  prospect  I  told 
myself  that  I  ought  to  feel  very  satisfied,  and 
rather  to  my  surprise  found  myself  feeling  not 
very  dissatisfied ;  for  most  unquestionably  the 
duchess  had  treated  me  villainously  and  had 
entirely  failed  to  appreciate  me.  My  face  still 
went  hot  to  think  of  the  glance  she  had  given 
Marie  Delhasse's  maladroit  ambassador. 

After  these  reflections  and  a  bottle  of  Bur- 
gundy (I  will  not  apportion  the  credit)  I  rose 
from  the  table  humming  a  tune  and  started  to 
go  upstairs,  conning  my  scheme  in  a  contented 
mind.  As  I  passed  through  the  hall  the  porter 
handed  me  a  note,  saying  that  a  boy  had  left 
it  and  that  there  was  no  answer.  I  opened 
and  read  it ;  it  was  very  short  and  it  ran 
thus: 

I  wish  never  to  see  you  again. 

ELSA. 


A    VERY  CLEVER  SCHEME.  103 

Now  "  Elsa  "  (and  I  believe  that  I  have  not 
mentioned  the  fact  before — an  evidence,  if  any 
were  needed,  of  my  discretion)  was  the  Chris- 
tian name  of  the  Duchess  of  Saint-Maclou. 
Picking  up  her  dropped  handkerchief  as  we 
rambled  through  the  woods,  I  had  seen  the 
word  delicately  embroidered  thereon,  and  I  had 
not  forgotten  this  chance  information.  But 
why — let  those  learned  in  the  ways  of  women 
answer  if  they  can — why,  first,  did  she  write  at 
all  ?  Why,  secondly,  did  she  tell  me  what  had 
been  entirely  obvious  from  her  demeanor  ? 
Why,  thirdly,  did  she  choose  to  affix  to  the 
document  which  put  an  end  to  our  friendship 
a  name  which  that  friendship  had  never  pro- 
gressed far  enough  to  justify  me  in  employing  ? 
To  none  of  these  pertinent  queries  could  I  give 
a  satisfactory  reply.  Yet,  somehow,  that 
"  Elsa  "  standing  alone,  shorn  of  all  aristocratic 
trappings,  had  a  strange  attraction  for  me,  and 
carried  with  it  a  pleasure  that  the  uncompli- 
mentary tenor  of  the  rest  of  the  document  did 
not  entirely  obliterate.  "  Elsa  "  wished  never 
to  see  me  again :  that  was  bad  ;  but  it  was 
"  Elsa  "  who  was  so  wicked  as  to  wish  that : 
that  was  good.  And  by  a  curious  freak  of  the 
mind  it  occurred  to  me  as  a  hardship  that  I  had 
not  received  so  much  as  a  note  of  one  line 
from — "  Marie." 

"Nonsense!"  said  I  aloud  and  peevishly; 
and  I  thrust  the  letter  into  my  pocket,  cheek  by 
jowl  with  the  Cardinal's  Necklace.  And  being 
thus  vividly  reminded  of  the  presence  of  that 
undesired  treasure,  I  became  clearly  resolved 


104    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

that  I  must  not  be  arrested  for  theft  merely 
because  the  Duchess  of  Saint-Maclou  chose 
(from  hurry,  or  carelessness,  or  what  motive 
you  will)  to  sign  a  disagreeable  and  unnecessary 
communication  with  her  Christian  name  and 
nothing  more,  nor  because  Mile.  Delhasse  chose 
to  vanish  without  a  word  of  civil  farewell. 
Let  them  go  their  ways — I  did  not  know  which 
of  them  annoyed  me  more.  Notwithstanding 
the  letter,  notwithstanding  the  disappearance, 
my  scheme  must  be  carried  out.  And  then — 
for  home !  But  the  conclusion  came  glum  and 
displeasing. 

The  scheme  was  very  simple.  I  intended  to 
spend  the  hours  of  the  night  in  an  excursion  to 
the  duke's  house.  I  knew  that  old  Jean  slept 
in  a  detached  cottage  about  half  a  mile  from 
the  chdteau.  Here  I  should  find  the  old  man. 
I  would  hand  to  him  the  necklace  in  its  box, 
without  telling  him  what  the  contents  of  the 
box  were.  Jean  would  carry  the  parcel  to  his 
master,  and  deliver  with  it  a  message  to  the 
effect  that  a  gentleman  who  had  left  Avranches 
that  afternoon  had  sent  the  parcel  by  a  mes- 
senger to  the  duke,  inasmuch  as  he  had  reason 
to  believe  that  the  article  contained  therein  was 
the  property  of  the  duke  and  that  the  duke 
would  probably  be  glad  to  have  it  restored  to 
him.  The  significant  reticence  of  this  message 
was  meant  to  inform  the  duke  that  Marie  Del- 
hasse was  not  so  solitary  in  her  flight  but  that 
she  could  find  a  cavalier  to  do  her  errands  for 
her,  and  one  who  would  not  acquiesce  in  the 
retention  of  the  diamonds.  I  imagined,  with  a 


A    VERY  CLEVER  SCHEME.  IO$ 

great  deal  of  pleasure,  what  the  duke's  feelings 
would  be  in  face  of  the  communication.  Thus, 
then,  the  diamonds  were  to  be  restored,  the 
duke  disgusted,  and  I  myself  freed  from  all  my 
troubles.  I  have  often  thought  since  that  the 
scheme  was  really  very  ingenious,  and  showed 
a  talent  for  intrigue  which  has  been  notably 
wanting  in  the  rest  of  my  humble  career. 

The  scheme  once  prosperously  carried 
through,  I  should,  of  course,  take  my  departure 
at  the  earliest  moment  on  the  following  day.  I 
might,  or  I  might  not,  write  a  line  of  dignified 
remonstrance  to  the  duchess,  but  I  should  make 
no  attempt  to  see  her ;  and  I  should  most  cer- 
tainly go.  Moreover,  it  would  be  a  long  while 
before  I  accepted  any  of  her  harum-scarum 
invitations  again. 

"  Elsa  "  indeed  !  Somehow  I  could  not  say 
it  with  quite  the  indignant  scorn  which  I 
desired  should  be  manifest  in  my  tone.  I  have 
never  been  able  to  be  indignant  with  the 
duchess  ;  although  I  have  laughed  at  her.  Now 
I  could  be,  and  was,  indignant  with  Marie  Del- 
hasse  ;  though,  in  truth,  her  difficult  position 
pleaded  excuses  for  her  treatment  of  me  which 
the  duchess  could  not  advance. 

As  the  clock  of  the  church  struck  ten  I 
walked  downstairs  from  my  room,  wearing  a 
light  short  overcoat  tightly  buttoned  up.  I 
informed  the  waiter  that  I  was  likely  to  be  late, 
secured  the  loan  of  a  latchkey,  and  left  my  good 
friend  under  the  evident  impression  that  I  was 
about  to  range  the  shores  of  the  bay  in  love-lorn 
solitude.  Then  I  took  the  footpath  down  the 


106    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

hill  and,  swinging  along  at  a  round  pace,  was 
fairly  started  on  my  journey.  If  the  inference  I 
drew  from  the  next  thing  I  saw  were  correct,  it 
was  just  as  well  for  me  to  be  out  of  the  way  for 
a  little  while.  For,  when  I  was  still  about  thirty 
yards  from  the  main  road,  there  dashed  past 
the  end  of  the  lane  leading  up  the  hill  a  car- 
riage and  pair,  traveling  at  full  speed.  I  could 
not  see  who  rode  inside ;  but  two  men  sat  on 
the  box,  and  there  was  luggage  on  the  top.  I 
could  not  be  sure  in  the  dim  light,  but  I  had  a 
very  strong  impression  that  the  carriage  was 
the  same  as  that  which  had  conveyed  Mme. 
Delhasse  out  of  my  sight  earlier  in  the  evening. 
If  it  were  so,  and  if  the  presence  of  the  luggage 
indicated  that  of  its  owner,  the  good  lady,  arriv- 
ing alone,  must  have  met  with  the  scantest 
welcome  from  the  duke.  And  she  would 
return  in  a  fury  of  anger  and  suspicion.  I  was 
glad  not  to  meet  her ;  for  if  she  were  searching 
for  explanation,  I  fancied,  from  glances  she  had 
given  me,  that  I  was  likely  to  come  in  for  a 
share  of  her  attention.  In  fact,  she  might 
reasonably  have  supposed  that  I  was  interested 
in  her  daughter ;  nor,  indeed,  would  she  have 
been  wrong  so  far. 

Briskly  I  pursued  my  way,  and  in  something 
over  an  hour  I  reached  the  turn  in  the  road 
and,  setting  my  face  inland,  began  to  climb  the 
hill.  A  mile  further  on  I  came  on  a  bypath, 
and  not  doubting  from  my  memory  of  the  direc- 
tion, that  this  must  be  a  short  cut  to  the  house, 
I  left  the  road  and  struck  along  the  narrow 
wooded  track.  But,  although  shorter  than  the 


A    VERY  CLEVER  SCHEME.  IO7 

road,  it  was  not  very  direct,  and  I  found  myself 
thinking  it  very  creditable  to  the  topographical 
instinct  of  my  friend  and  successor,  Pierre,  that 
he  should  have  discovered  on  a  first  visit,  and 
without  having  been  to  the  house,  that  this  was 
the  best  route  to  follow.  With  the  knowledge 
of  where  the  house  lay,  however,  it  was  not 
difficult  to  keep  right,  and  another  forty  minutes 
brought  me,  now  creeping  along  very  cautiously, 
alertly,  and  with  open  ears,  to  the  door  of  old 
Jean's  little  cottage.  No  doubt  he  was  fast 
asleep  in  his  bed,  and  I  feared  the  need  of  a 
good  deal  of  noisy  knocking  before  he  could  be 
awakened  from  a  peasant's  heavy  slumber. 

My  delight  was  therefore  great  when  I  dis- 
covered that — either  because  he  trusted  his 
fellow-men,  or  because  he  possessed  nothing  in 
the  least  worth  stealing — he  had  left  his  door 
simply  on  the  latch.  I  lifted  the  latch  and 
walked  in.  A  dim  lantern  burned  on  a  little 
table  near  the  smoldering  log-fire.  Yet  the 
light  was  enough  to  tell  me  that  my  involuntary 
host  was  not  in  the  room.  I  passed  across  its 
short  breadth  to  a  door  in  the  opposite  wall. 
The  door  yielded  to  a  push  ;  all  was  dark 
inside.  I  listened  for  a  sleeper's  breathing,  but 
heard  nothing.  I  returned,  took  up  the  lantern, 
and  carried  it  with  me  into  the  inner  room.  I 
held  it  above  my  head,  and  it  enabled  me  to 
see  the  low  pallet-bed  in  the  corner.  But  Jean 
was  not  lying  in  the  bed — nay,  it  was  clear  that 
he  had  not  lain  on  the  bed  all  that  night.  Yet 
his  bedtime  was  half-past  eight  or  nine,  and  it 
was  now  hard  on  one  o'clock.  Jean  was  "  mak- 


108    THE  INDISCRETION  OF   THE  DUCHESS. 

ing  a  night  of  it,"  that  seemed  very  clear.  But 
what  was  the  business  or  pleasure  that  engaged 
him  ?  I  admit  that  I  was  extremely  annoyed. 
My  darling  scheme,  on  which  I  had  prided 
myself  so  much,  was  tripped  up  by  the  trifling 
accident  of  Jean's  absence. 

What  in  the  world,  I  asked  again,  kept  the 
old  man  from  his  bed  ?  It  suddenly  struck  me 
that  he  might,  by  the  duke's  orders,  have  accom- 
panied Mme.  Delhasse  back  to  Avranches,  in 
order  to  be  able  to  report  to  his  master  any 
news  that  came  to  light  there.  He  might  well 
have  been  the  second  man  on  the  box.  This 
reflection  removed  my  surprise  at  his  absence, 
but  not  my  vexation.  I  did  not  know  what  to 
do  !  Should  I  wait  ?  But  he  might  not  be 
back  till  morning.  Wearily,  in  high  disgust,  I 
recognized  that  the  great  scheme  had,  for  to- 
night at  least,  gone  awry,  and  that  I  must  tramp 
back  to  Avranches,  carrying  my  old  man  of  the 
sea,  the  Cardinal's  Necklace.  For  Jean  could 
not  read,  and  it  was  useless  to  leave  the  parcel 
with  written  directions. 

I  went  into  the  outer  room,  and  set  the 
lantern  in  its  place  ;  I  took  a  pull  at  my  flask, 
and  smoked  a  pipe.  Then,  with  a  last  sigh  of 
vexation,  I  grasped  my  stick  in  my  hand,  rose 
to  my  feet,  and  moved  toward  the  door. 

Ah  !     Hark  !    There  was  a  footstep  outside. 

"  Thank  Heaven,  here  comes  the  old  fool ! "  I 
murmured. 

The  step  came  on,  and,  as  it  came,  I  listened 
to  it ;  and  as  I  listened  to  it,  the  sudden  satis- 
faction that  had  filled  me  as  suddenly  died 


A    VERY  CLEVER  SCHEME.  IOg 

away;  for,  if  that  were  the  step  of  old  Jean, 
may  I  see  no  difference  between  the  footfalls  of 
an  elephant  and  of  a  ballet-dancer  !  And  then, 
before  I  had  time  to  form  any  plan,  or  to  do 
anything  save  stand  staring  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor,  the  latch  was  lifted  again,  the  door  opened, 
and  in  walked — the  Duke  of  Saint-Maclou  ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 
e  a  /ifcan 


J|HE  dim  light  served  no  further  than  to 
show  that  a  man  was  there. 

"  Well,  Jean,  what  news  ?  "  asked 
the    duke,   drawing    the   door    close 
behind  him. 

"  I  am  not  Jean,"  said  I. 

"  Then  who  the  devil  are  you,  and  what  are 
you  doing  here  ?  "  He  advanced  and  held  up 
the  lantern.  "Why,  what  are  you  hanging 
about  for?"  he  exclaimed  the  next  moment, 
with  a  start  of  surprise. 

"And  I  am  not  George  Sampson  either," 
said  I  composedly.  I  had  no  mind  to  play  any 
more  tricks.  As  I  must  meet  him,  it  should  be 
in  my  own  character. 

The  duke  studied  me  from  top  to  toe.  He 
twirled  his  mustache,  and  a  slight  smile  ap- 
peared on  his  full  lips. 

"  Yet  I  know  you  as  George  Sampson,  I  think, 
sir,"  said  he,  but  in  an  altered  tone.  He  spoke 
now  as  though  to  an  equal—  to  an  enemy  per- 
haps, but  to  an  equal. 

I  was  in  some  perplexity  ;  but  a  moment 
later  he  relieved  me. 

"  You  need  trouble  yourself  with  no  denials,'' 


AS  A    MAN  POSSESSED.  Ill 

he  said.  "  Lafleur's  story  of  the  gentleman  at 
Avranches,  with  the  description  of  him,  struck 
me  as  strange  ;  and  for  the  rest — there  were 
two  things." 

He  seated  himself  on  a  stool.  I  leaned  against 
the  wall. 

"  In  the  first  place,"  he  continued,  "  I  know 
my  wife  pretty  well ;  in  the  second,  a  secret 

known  to  four  maidservants Really,  sir, 

you  were  very  confiding  !  " 

"  I  was  doing  no  wrong,"  said  I ;  though  not, 
I  confess,  in  a  very  convinced  tone. 

"  Then  why  the  masquerade  ?  "  he  answered 
quickly,  hitting  my  weak  point. 

"  Because  you  were  known  to  be  unreason- 
able." 

His  smile  broadened  a  little. 

"  It's  the  old  crime  of  husbands,  isn't  it?  "  he 
asked.  "  Well,  sir,  I'm  no  lawyer,  and  it's  not 
my  purpose  to  question  you  on  that  matter.  •  I 
will  put  you  to  no  denials." 

I  bowed.  The  civility  of  his  demeanor  was  a 
surprise  to  me. 

"  If  that  were  the  only  affair,  I  need  not  keep 
you  ten  minutes,"  he  went  on.  "At  least,  I 
presume  that  my  friend  would  find  you  when  he 
wanted  to  deliver  a  message  from  me  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  But  may  I  ask  why,  if  that  is 
your  intention,  you  have  delayed  so  long  ? 
You  guessed  I  was  at  Avranches.  Why  not 
have  sent  to  me  ?  " 

The  duke  tugged  his  mustache. 

"  I  do  not  know  your  name,  sir,"  he  re- 
marked. 


112    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  My  name  is  Aycon." 

"  I  know  the  name,"  and  he  bowed  slightly. 
"  Well,  I  didn't  send  to  you  at  Avranches  be- 
cause I  was  otherwise  occupied." 

"  I  am  glad,  sir,  that  you  take  it  so  lightly," 
said  I. 

"And  by  the  way,  Mr.  Aycon,  before  you 
question  me,  isn't  there  a  question  I  might  ask 
you  ?  How  came  you  here  to-night  ?  "  And, 
as  he  spoke,  his  smile  vanished. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say,  beyond  that  I  hoped 
to  see  your  servant  Jean." 

"  For  what  purpose  ?  Come,  sir,  for  what 
purpose  ?  I  have  a  right  to  ask  for  what  pur- 
pose." And  his  tone  rose  in  anger. 

I  was  going  to  give  him  a  straightforward 
answer.  My  hand  was  actually  on  the  way  to 
the  spot  where  I  felt  the  red  box  pressing  against 
my  side,  when  he  rose  from  his  seat  and  strode 
toward  me ;  and  a  sudden  passion  surged  in 
his  voice. 

"  Answer  me  !  answer  me ! "  he  cried.  "  No, 
I'm  not  asking  about  my  wife ;  I  don't  care  a 
farthing  for  that  empty  little  parrot.  Answer 
me,  sir,  as  you  value  your  life  !  What  do  you 
know  of  Marie  Delhasse  ?  " 

And  he  stood  before  me  with  uplifted  hand, 
as  though  he  meant  to  strike  me.  I  did  not 
move,  and  we  looked  keenly  into  one  another's 
eyes.  He  controlled  himself  by  a  great  effort, 
but  his  hands  trembled,  as  he  continued  : 

"  That  old  hag  who  came  to-night  and  dared 
to  show  her  filthy  face  here  without  her 
daughter — she  told  me  of  your  talks  and  walks. 


AS  A   MAN  POSSESSED.  1 1 3 

The  girl  was  ready  to  come.  Who  stopped 
her  ?  Who  turned  her  mind  ?  Who  was  there 
but  you — you — you  ?  " 

And  again  his  passion  overcame  him,  and  he 
was  within  an  ace  of  dashing  his  fist  in  my 
face. 

My  hands  hung  at  my  side,  and  I  leaned 
easily  against  the  wall. 

"  Thank  God,"  said  I,  "  I  believe  I  stopped 
her!  I  believe  I  turned  her  mind.  I  did  my 
best,  and  except  me,  nobody  was  there." 

"  You  admit  it  ?  " 

"  I  admit  the  crime  you  charged  me  with. 
Nothing  more." 

"What  have  you  done  with  her?  Where  is 
she  now?  " 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Ah  ! "  he  cried,  in  angry  incredulity.  "  You 
don't  know,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  And  if  I  knew,  I  wouldn't  tell  you." 

"I'm  sure  of  that,"  he  sneered.  "It  is 
knowledge  a  man  keeps  to  himself,  isn't  it  ? 
But,  by  Heaven,  you  shall  tell  me  before  you 
leave  this  place,  or " 

"  We  have  already  one  good  ground  of 
quarrel,"  I  interrupted.  "  What  need  is  there 
of  another  ?  " 

"  A  good  ground  of  quarrel  ?  "  he  repeated, 
in  a  questioning  tone. 

Honestly  I  believe  that  he  had  for  the 
moment  forgotten.  His  passion  for  Marie 
Delhasse  and  fury  at  the  loss  of  her  filled  his 
whole  mind. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  went  on.  "  About  the  duchess  ? 


114    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS, 

True,  Mr.  Aycon.  That  will  serve — as  well  as 
the  truth." 

"  If  that  is  not  a  real  ground,  I  know  none," 
said  I. 

"  Haven't  you  told  me  that  you  kept  her  from 
me?" 

"  For  no  purposes  of  my  own." 

He  drew  back  a  step,  smiling  scornfully. 

"  A  man  is  bound  to  protest  that  the  lady 
is  virtuous,"  said  he ;  "  but  need  he  insist  so 
much  on  his  own  virtue  ?  " 

"As  it  so  happens,"  I  observed,  "it's  not  a 
question  of  virtue." 

I  suppose  there  was  something  in  my  tone 
that  caught  his  attention,  for  his  scornful  air 
was  superseded  by  an  intent  puzzled  gaze,  and 
his  next  question  was  put  in  lower  tones : 

"  What  did  you  stay  in  Avranches  for  ?  " 

"  Because  your  wife  asked  me,"  said  I.  The 
answer  was  true  enough,  but,  as  I  wished  to 
deal  candidly  with  him,  I  added :  "And,  later 
on,  Mile.  Delhasse  expressed  a  similar  desire." 

"  My  wife  and  Mile.  Delhasse  !  Truly  you 
are  a  favorite  !  " 

"Honest  men  happen  to  be  scarce  in  this 
neighborhood,"  said  I.  I  was  becoming  rather 
angry. 

"  If  you  are  one,  I  hope  to  be  able  to  make 
them  scarcer  by  one  more,"  said  the  duke. 

"Well,  we  needn't  wrangle  over  it  any  more," 
said  I ;  and  I  sat  down  on  the  lid  of  a  chest 
that  stood  by  the  hearth.  But  the  duke  sprang 
forward  and  seized  me  by  the  arm,  crying  again 
in  ungovernable  rage  : 


AS  A   MAN  POSSESSED.  H5 

"  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  is  safe  from  you,  I  hope." 

"  Aye — and  you'll  keep  her  safe !  " 

"  As  I  say,  I  know  nothing  about  her,  except 
that  she'd  be  an  honest  girl  if  you'd  let  her 
alone." 

He  was  still  holding  my  arm,  and  I  let  him 
hold  it :  the  man  was  hardly  himself  under  the 
slavery  of  his  passion.  But  again,  at  my 
words,  the  wonder  which  I  had  seen  before 
stole  into  his  eyes. 

"You  must  know  where  she  is,"  he  said, 
with  a  straining  look  at  my  face,  "  but — 
but " 

He  broke  off,  leaving  his  sentence  unfinished. 
Then  he  broke  out  again  : 

"  Safe  from  me  ?  I  would  make  life  a  heaven 
for  her !  " 

"  That's  the  old  plea,"  said  I. 

"  Is  a  thing  a  lie  because  it's  old  ?  There's 
nothing  in  the  world  I  would  not  give  her — 
nothing  I  have  not  offered  her."  Then  he 
looked  at  me,  repeating  again  :  "  You  must 
know  where  she  is."  And  then  he  whispered  : 
"  Why  aren't  you  with  her?" 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  be  with  her,"  said  I. 
Any  other  reason  would  not  have  appealed  to 
him. 

He  sank  down  on  the  stool  again  and  sat  in 
a  heap,  breathing  heavily  and  quickly.  He  was 
wonderfully  transfigured,  and  I  hardly  knew  in 
him  the  cold  harsh  man  who  had  been  my 
temporary  master  and  was  the  mocking  hus- 
band of  the  duchess.  Say  all  that  may  be  said 


Il6    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

about  his  passion,  I  could  not  doubt  that  it  was 
life  and  death  to  him.  Justification  he  had 
none ;  excuse  I  found  in  my  heart  for  him,  for 
it  struck  me — coming  over  me  in  a  strange 
sudden  revelation  as  I  sat  and  looked  at  him — 
that  had  he  given  such  love  to  the  duchess,  the 
gay  little  lady  would  have  been  marvelously 
embarrassed.  It  was  hers  to  dwell  in  a  radiant 
mid-ether,  neither  to  mount  to  heaven  nor 
descend  to  hell.  And  in  one  of  these  two  must 
dwell  such  feelings  as  the  duke's. 

He  roused  himself,  and  leaning  forward  spoke 
to  me  again  : 

"You've  lived  in  the  same  house  with  her 
and  talked  to  her.  You  swear  you  don't  love 
her  ?  What  ?  Has  Elsa's  little  figure  come 
between  ?  " 

His  tone  was  full  of  scorn.  He  seemed 
angry  with  me,  not  for  presuming  to  love  his 
wife  (nay,  he  would  not  believe  that),  but  for 
being  so  blind  as  not  to  love  Marie. 

"  I  didn't  love  her ! "  I  answered,  with  a 
frown  on  my  face  and  in  slow  words. 

"  You  have  never  felt  attracted  to  her  ?  " 

I  did  not  answer  that  question.  I  sat  frown- 
ing in  silence  till  the  duke  spoke  again,  in  a  low 
hoarse  whisper : 

"  And  she  ?     What  says  she  to  you  ?  " 

I  looked  up  with  a  start,  and  met  his  search- 
ing wrathful  gaze.  I  shook  my  head ;  his 
question  was  new  to  me — new  and  disturbing. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  I ;  and  on  that  we  sat 
in  silence  for  many  moments. 

Then  he  rose  abruptly  and  stood  beside  me. 


AS  A   MAN  POSSESSED.  II? 

"  Mr.  Aycon,"  he  said,  in  the  smoother  tones 
in  which  he  had  begun  our  curious  interview, 
"  I  came  near  a  little  while  ago  to  doing  a 
ruffianly  thing,  of  a  sort  I  am  not  wont  to  do. 
We  must  fight  out  our  quarrel  in  the  proper  way. 
Have  you  any  friends  in  the  neighborhood  ?  " 

"  I  am  quite  unknown,"  I  answered. 

He  thought  for  an  instant,  and  then  con- 
tinued : 

"  There  is  a  regiment  quartered  at  Pontor- 
son,  and  I  have  acquaintances  among  the 
officers.  If  agreeable  to  you,  we  will  drive 
over  there ;  we  shall  find  gentlemen  ready  to 
assist  us." 

"  You  are  determined  to  fight  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  with  a  snap  of  his  lips. 
"  Have  we  not  matters  enough  and  to  spare  to 
fight  about  ?  " 

"  I  can't  of  course  deny  that  you  have  a 
pretext." 

"  And  I,  Mr.  Aycon,  know  that  I  have  also 
a  cause.  Will  this  morning  suit  you  ?  " 

"  It  is  hard  on  two  now." 

"  Precisely.  We  have  time  for  a  little  rest ; 
then  I  will  order  the  carriage  and  we  will 
drive  together  to  Pontorson." 

"  You  mean  that  I  should  stay  in  your 
house  ?  " 

"  If  you  will  so  far  honor  me.  I  wish  to 
settle  this  affair  at  once,  so  as  to  be  moving." 

"  I  can  but  accept." 

"  Indeed  you  could  hardly  get  back  to 
Avranches,  if,  as  I  presume,  you  came  on  foot. 
Ah !  you've  never  told  me  why  you  wished  to 


Il8    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

see  Jean  ; "  and  he  turned  a  questioning  look 
on  me  again,  as  he  walked  toward  the  door  of 
the  cottage. 

"  It  was "  I  began. 

"Stay;  you  shall  tell  me  in  the  house. 
Shall  I  lead  the  way  ?  Ah,  but  you  know  it !  " 
and  he  smiled  grimly. 

With  a  bow,  I  preceded  him  along  the  little 
path  where  I  had  once  waited  for  the  duchess, 
and  where  Pierre,  the  new  servant,  had  found 
me.  No  words  passed  between  us  as  we  went. 
The  duke  advanced  to  the  door  and  unlocked 
it.  We  went  in,  nobody  was  about,  and  we 
crossed  the  dimly  lighted  hall  into  the  small 
room  where  supper  had  been  laid  for  three 
(three  who  should  have  been  four)  on  the  night 
of  my  arrival.  Meat,  bread,  and  wine  stood  on 
the  table  now,  and  with  a  polite  gesture  the 
duke  invited  me  to  a  repast.  I  was  tired  and 
hungry,  and  I  took  a  hunch  of  bread  and 
poured  out  some  wine. 

"What  keeps  Jean,  I  wonder?"  mused  the 
duke,  as  he  sat  down.  "  Perhaps  he  has  found 
her ! "  and  a  gleam  of  eager  hope  flashed  from 
his  eyes. 

I  made  no  comment — where  was  the  profit  in 
more  sparring  of  words  ?  I  munched  my  bread 
and  drank  my  wine,  thinking,  by  a  whimsical 
turn  of  thought,  of  Gustave  de  Berensac  and 
his  horror  at  the  table  laid  for  three.  Soon  I 
laid  down  my  napkin,  and  the  duke  held  out 
his  cigarette  case  toward  me  : 

"And  now,  Mr.  Aycon,  if  I'm  not  keeping 
you  up " 


AS  A   MAN  POSSESSED.  IIQ 

"  I  do  not  feel  sleepy,"  said  I. 

"  It  is  the  same  for  both  of  us,"  he  reminded 
me,  shrugging  his  shoulders.  "Well,  then,  if 
you  are  willing — of  course  you  can  refuse  if  you 
choose—I  should  like  to  hear  what  brought  you 
to  Jean's  quarters  on  foot  from  Avranches  in 
the  middle  of  the  night." 

"  You  shall  hear.  I  did  not  desire  to  meet 
you,  if  I  could  avoid  it,  and  therefore  I  sought 
old  Jean,  with  the  intention  of  making  him  a 
messenger  to  you." 

"  For  what  purpose  ?  " 

"  To  restore  to  you  something  which  has 
been  left  on  my  hands  and  to  which  you  have  a 
better  right  than  I." 

"  Pray,  what  is  that  ?  "  he  asked,  evidently 
puzzled.  The  truth  never  crossed  his  mind. 

"  This,"  said  I  ;  and  I  took  the  red  leathern 
box  out  of  my  pocket,  and  set  it  down  on  the 
table  in  front  of  the  duke.  And  I  put  my 
cigarette  between  my  lips  and  leaned  back  in 
my  chair. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
B  Gimelg  Grace. 

THINK  that  at  first  the  Duke  of 
Saint-Maclou  could  not,  as  the  old 
saying  goes,  believe  his  eyes.  He  sat 
looking  from  me  to  the  red  box,  and 
from  the  red  box  back  to  my  face.  Then  he 
stretched  out  a  slow,  wavering  hand  and  drew 
the  box  nearer  to  him  till  it  rested  in  the  circle 
of  his  spread-out  arm  and  directly  under  his 
poring  gaze.  He  seemed  to  shrink  from  open- 
ing it ;  but  at  last  he  pressed  the  spring  with  a 
covert  timid  movement  of  his  finger,  and  the 
lid,  springing  open,  revealed  the  Cardinal's 
Necklace. 

It  seemed  to  be  more  brilliant  than  I  had  ever 
seen  it,  in  the  light  of  the  lamp  that  stood  on 
the  table  by  us ;  and  the  duke  looked  at  it  as  a 
magician  might  at  the  amulet  which  had  failed 
him,  or  a  warrior  at  the  talisman  that  had 
proved  impotent.  And  I,  moved  to  a  sudden 
anger  with  him  for  tempting  the  girl  with  such 
a  bribe,  said  bitterly  and  scornfully,  with  fresh 
indignation  rising  in  me  : 

"  It  was  a  high  bid !  Strange  that  you  could 
not  buy  her  with  it !  " 

He  paid  no  visible  heed  to  my  taunt;  and 

120 


A    TIMELY  TRUCE.  121 

his  tone  was  dull,  bewildered,  and  heavy  as, 
holding  the  box  still  in  his  curved  arm,  he  asked 
slowly : 

"  Did  she  give  it  to  you  to  give  to  me  ?  " 

"  She  gave  it  to  me  to  give  to  your  wife." 
He  looked  up  with  a  start.  "  But  your  wife 
would  not  take  it  of  her.  And  when  I  returned 
from  my  errand  she  was  gone — where  I  know 
not.  So  I  decided  to  send  it  back  to  you." 

He  did  not  follow,  or  took  very  little  interest 
in  my  brief  history.  He  did  not  even  reiterate 
his  belief  that  I  knew  Marie's  whereabouts. 
His  mind  was  fixed  on  another  point. 

"  How  did  you  know  she  had  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  found  her  with  it  on  the  table  before 
her " 

"  You  found  her  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  went  into  her  sitting  room  and  found 
her  as  I  say ;  and  she  was  sobbing ;  and  I  got 
from  her  the  story  of  it." 

"  She  told  you  that  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  she  feared  to  send  it  back,  lest 
you  should  come  and  overbear  her  resistance. 
I  supposed  you  had  frightened  her.  But  neither 
would  she  keep  it " 

"  You  bade  her  not,"  he  put  in,  in  a  quick  low 
tone. 

"  If  you  like,  I  prayed  her  not.  Did  it  need 
much  cleverness  to  see  what  was  meant  by 
keeping  it  ?  " 

His  mouth  twitched.  I  saw  the  tempest  ris- 
ing again  in  him.  But  for  a  little  longer  he 
held  it  down. 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  a  fool  ?  "  he  asked. 


122    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  Am  I  a  boy — do  I  know  nothing  of  women  ? 
And  do  I  know  nothing  of  men  ?  " 

And  he  ended  in  a  miserable  laugh,  and  then 
fell  again  to  tugging  his  mustache  with  his 
shaking  hand. 

"  You  know,"  said  I,  "  what's  bad  in  both  ; 
and  no  doubt  that's  a  good  deal." 

In  that  very  room  the  duchess  had  called 
Gustave  de  Berensac  a  preacher.  Her  husband 
had  much  the  same  reproach  for  me. 

"  Sermons  are  fine  from  your  mouth,"  he 
muttered. 

And  then  his  self-control  gave  way.  With  a 
sweep  of  his  arm  he  drove  the  necklace  from 
him,  so  that  the  box  whizzed  across  the  table, 
balanced  a  moment  on  the  edge,  and  fell  crash- 
ing on  the  ground,  while  the  duke  cried  : 

"  God's  curse  on  it  and  you  !  You've  taken 
her  from  me !  " 

There  was  danger — there  was  something  like 
madness — in  his  aspect  as  he  rose,  and,  facing 
me  where  I  sat,  went  on  in  tones  still  low,  but 
charged  with  a  rage  that  twisted  his  features 
and  lined  his  white  cheeks  : 

"  Are  you  a  liar  or  a  fool  ?  Have  you  taken 
the  game  for  yourself,  or  are  you  fool  enough 
not  to  see  that  she  has  despised  me— and  that 
miserable  necklace — for  you — because  you've 
caught  her  fancy  ?  My  God  !  and  I've  given 
my  life  to  it  for  two  years  past !  And  you  step 
in.  Why  didn't  you  keep  to  my  wife  ?  You 
were  welcome  to  her — though  I'd  have  shot  you 
all  the  same  for  my  name's  sake.  You  must 
have  Marie  too,  must  you  ?  " 


A    TIMELY  TRUCE.  123 

He  was  mad,  if  ever  man  was  mad,  at  that 
moment.  But  his  words  were  strong  with  the 
force  and  clear  with  the  insight  of  his  passion  ; 
and  the  rush  of  them  carried  my  mind  along, 
and  swept  it  with  them  to  their  own  conclusion. 
Nay,  I  will  not  say  that — for  I  doubted  still ; 
but  I  doubted  as  a  man  who  would  deny,  not 
as  one  who  laughs  away,  a  thought.  I  sat 
silent,  looking,  not  at  him,  but  at  the  Cardinal's 
Necklace  on  the  floor. 

Then,  suddenly,  while  I  was  still  busy  with 
the  thought  and  dazzled  at  the  revelation,  while 
I  sat  bemused,  before  I  could  move,  his  fingers 
were  on  my  throat,  and  his  face  within  a  foot 
of  mine,  glaring  and  working  as  he  sent  his 
strength  into  his  arms  to  throttle  me.  For  his 
wife — and  his  name — he  would  fight  a  duel : 
for  the  sake  of  Marie  Delhasse  he  would  do 
murder  on  an  invited  stranger  in  his  house.  I 
struggled  to  my  feet,  his  grip  on  my  throat ; 
and  I  stretched  out  my  hands  and  caught  him 
under  the  shoulders  in  the  armpits,  and  flung 
him  back  against  the  table,  and  thence  he  reeled 
on  to  a  large  cabinet  that  was  by  the  wall,  and 
stood  leaning  against  it. 

"  I  knew  you  were  a  villain,"  I  said,  "  but  I 
thought  you  were  a  gentleman."  (I  did  not 
stop  to  consider  the  theory  implied  in  that.) 

He  leaned  against  the  cabinet,  red  with  his 
exertion  and  panting ;  but  he  did  not  come  at 
me  again.  He  dashed  his  hand  across  his  fore- 
head and  then  he  said  in  hoarse  breathless  tones : 

"  You  shan't  leave  here  alive  !  " 

Then,  with  a  start  of  recollection,  he  thrust 


124    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  brought  out  a  key. 
He  put  it  in  the  lock  of  a  drawer  of  the  cabinet, 
fumbling  after  the  aperture  and  missing  it 
more  than  once.  Then  he  opened  the  drawer, 
took  out  a  pair  of  dueling  pistols,  and  laid  them 
on  the  table. 

"  They're  loaded,"  he  said.  "  Examine  them 
for  yourself." 

I  did  not  move ;  but  I  took  my  little  friend 
out  of  my  pocket. 

"If  I'm  attacked,"  said  I,  "I  shall  defend 
myself ;  but  I'm  not  going  to  fight  a  duel  here, 
without  witnesses,  at  the  dead  of  night,  in  your 
house." 

"  Call  it  what  you  like  then,"  said  he  ;  and  he 
snatched  up  a  pistol  from  the  table. 

He  was  beyond  remonstrance,  influence,  or 
control.  I  believe  that  in  a  moment  he  would 
have  fired  ;  and  I  must  have  fired  also,  or  gone 
to  my  death  as  a  sheep  to  the  slaughter.  But 
as  he  spoke  there  came  a  sound,  just  audible, 
which  made  him  pause,  with  his  right  hand  that 
held  the  pistol  raised  halfway  to  the  level  of 
his  shoulder. 

Faint  as  the  sound  was,  slight  as  the  inter- 
ruption it  would  seem  to  offer  to  the  full  career 
of  a  madman's  fury,  it  was  yet  enough  to  check 
him,  to  call  him  back  to  consciousness  of  some- 
thing else  in  the  world  than  his  balked  pas- 
sion and  the  man  whom  he  deemed  to  have 
thwarted  it. 

"  What's  that  ?  "  he  whispered. 

It  was  the  lowest,  softest  knock  at  the  door — 
a  knock  that  even  in  asking  attention  almost 


A    TIMELY  TRUCE.  125 

shrank  from  being  heard.  It  was  repeated, 
louder,  yet  hardly  audibly.  The  duke,  striding 
on  the  tip  of  his  toes,  transferred  the  pistols 
from  the  table  back  to  the  drawer,  and  stood 
with  his  hand  inside  the  open  drawer.  I  slid 
my  weapon  into  my  pocket ;  and  then  he  trod 
softly  across  the  floor  to  the  door. 

"One  moment !  "  I  whispered. 

And  I  stooped  and  picked  up  the  Cardinal's 
Necklace  and  put  it  back  where  it  had  lain 
before,  pushing  its  box  under  the  table  by  a 
hasty  movement  of  my  foot — for  the  duke,  after 
a  nod  of  intelligence,  was  already  opening  the 
door.  I  drew  back  in  the  shadow  behind  it  and 
waited. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  asked  the  duke. 

And  then  a  girl  stepped  hastily  into  the  room 
and  closed  the  door  quickly  and  noiselessly  be- 
hind her.  I  saw  her  face  :  she  was  my  old 
friend  Suzanne.  When  her  eyes  fell  on  me,  she 
started  in  surprise,  as  well  she  might ;  but  the 
caution  and  fear,  which  had  made  her  knock 
almost  noiseless,  her  tread  silent,  and  her  face 
all  astrain  with  alert  alarm,  held  her  back  from 
any  cry. 

"  Never  mind  him,"  said  the  duke.  "  That's 
nothing  to  do  with  you.  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  Hush  !  Speak  low.  I  thought  you  would 
still  be  up,  as  you  told  me  to  refill  the  lamp 
and  have  it  burning.  There's — there's  some- 
thing going  on." 

She  spoke  in  a  quick,  urgent  whisper,  and  in 
her  agitation  remembered  no  deference  in  her 
words  of  address. 


126    THE  INDISCRETION  OF    THE  DUCHESS. 

"  Going  on  ?  Where  ?  Do  you  mean 
here?" 

"  No,  no !  I  heard  nothing  here.  In  the 
duchess's  dressing-room  :  it  is  just  under  the 
room  where  I  sleep.  I  awoke  about  half  an 
hour  ago,  and  I  heard  sounds  from  there. 
There  was  a  sound  as  of  muffled  hammering, 
and  then  a  noise,  like  the  rasping  of  a  file ;  and 
I  thought  I  heard  people  moving  about,  but 
very  cautiously." 

The  duke  and  I  were  both  listening  atten- 
tively. 

"  I  was  frightened,  and  lay  still  a  little ;  but 
then  I  got  up — for  the  sounds  went  on — and 
put  on  some  clothes,  and  came  down " 

"  Why  didn't  you  rouse  the  men  ?  It  must 
be  thieves." 

"  I  did  go  to  the  men's  room  ;  but  their  door 
was  locked,  and  I  could  not  make  them  hear. 
I  did  not  dare  to  knock  loud  ;  but  I  saw  a  light 
in  the  room,  under  the  door  ;  and  if  they'd  been 
awake  they  would  have  heard." 

"  Perhaps  they  weren't  there,"  I  suggested. 

Suzanne  turned  a  sudden  look  on  me.  Then 
she  said : 

"  The  safe  holding  the  jewels  is  fixed  in  the 
wall  of  the  duchess'  dressing  room.  And — 
and  Lafleur  knows  it." 

The  duke  had  heard  the  story  with  a  frown- 
ing face ;  but  now  a  smile  appeared  on  his  lips, 
and  he  said  : 

"  Ah,  yes  !    The  jewels  are  there  !  " 

"  The — the  Cardinal's  Necklace,"  whispered 
Suzanne. 


A    TIMELY  TRUC£.  1*7 

"  True,"  said  the  duke ;  and  his  eyes  met 
mine,  and  we  both  smiled.  A  few  minutes 
ago  it  had  not  seemed  likely  that  I  should 
share  a  joke — even  a  rather  grim  joke — with 
him. 

"  Mr.  Aycon,"  said  he,  "  are  you  inclined  to 
help  me  to  look  into  this  matter?  It  may  be 
only  the  girl's  fancy " 

"  No,  no ;  I  heard  plainly,"  Suzanne  protested 
eagerly, 

"  But  one  can  never  trust  these  rascally  men- 
servants." 

"  I  am  quite  ready,"  said  I. 

"  Our  business,"  said  he,  "  will  wait." 

"  It  will  be  the  better  for  waiting." 

He  hesitated  a  moment ;  then  he  assented 
gravely : 

"  You're  right — much  better." 

He  took  a  pistol  out  of  the  drawer,  and  shut 
and  locked  the  drawer.  Then  he  turned  to 
Suzanne  and  said : 

"  You  had  better  go  back  to  bed." 

"  I  daren't,  I  daren't !  " 

"  Then  stay  here  and  keep  quiet.  Mind,  not 
a  sound  ! " 

"  Give  me  a  pistol." 

He  unlocked  the  drawer  again,  and  gave  her 
what  she  asked.  Then  signing  to  me  to  follow 
him,  he  opened  the  door,  and  we  stepped 
together  into  the  dark  hall,  the  duke  laying  his 
hand  on  my  arm  and  whispering : 

"  They're  after  the  necklace." 

We  groped  slowly,  with  careful  noiselessness, 
across  the  hall  to  the  foot  of  the  great  staircase. 


128    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

There  we  paused  and  listened.  There  was 
nothing  to  be  heard.  We  climbed  the  first 
flight  of  stairs,  and  the  duke  turned  sharp  to 
the  right.  We  were  now  in  a  short  corridor 
which  ran  north  and  south ;  three  yards  ahead 
of  us  was  another  turn,  leading  to  the  west 
wing  of  the  house.  There  was  a  window  by 
us ;  the  duke  gently  opened  it ;  and  over  against 
us,  across  the  base  of  the  triangle  formed  by 
the  building,  was  another  window,  four  or  five 
yards  away.  The  window  was  heavily  cur- 
tained ;  no  light  could  be  seen  through  it.  But 
as  we  stood  listening,  the  sounds  began — first 
the  gentle  muffled  hammering,  then  the  sound 
of  the  file.  The  duke  still  held  my  arm,  and 
we  stood  motionless.  The  sounds  went  on  for 
a  while.  Then  they  ceased.  There  was  a 
pause  of  complete  stillness.  Then  a  sharp, 
though  not  loud,  click !  And,  upon  this,  the 
duke  whispered  to  me  : 

"  They've  got  the  safe  open.  Now  they'll 
find  the  small  portable  safe  which  holds  the 
necklace." 

And  I  could  make  out  an  amused  smile  on 
his  pale  face.  Before  I  could  speak,  he  turned 
and  began  to  crawl  away.  I  followed.  We  de- 
scended the  stairs  again  to  the  hall.  At  the 
foot  he  turned  sharply  to  the  left,  and  came 
to  a  standstill  in  a  recess  under  the  stair- 
case. 

"  We'll  wait  here.     Is  your  pistol  all  right  ?  " 

"  Yes,  all  right,"  said  I. 

And,  as  I  spoke,  the  faintest  sound  spread 
from  the  top  of  the  stairs,  and  a  board  creaked 


A    TIMELY   TRUCE.  I2Q 

under  the  steps  of  a  man.  I  was  close  against 
the  duke,  and  I  felt  him  quiver  with  a  stifled 
laugh.  Meanwhile  the  Cardinal's  Necklace 
pressed  hard  against  my  ribs  under  my  tightly 
buttoned  coat. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
ffor  an  Bmptg 


8HEN  I  look  back  on  the  series  of 
events  which  I  am  narrating  and  try 
to  recover  the  feelings  with  which  I 
was  affected  in  its  passage,  I  am 
almost  amazed  and  in  some  measure  ashamed 
to  find  how  faint  is  my  abhorrence  of  the  Duke 
of  Saint-Maclou.  My  indignation  wants  not  the 
bridle  but  the  whip,  and  I  have  to  spur  myself 
on  to  a  becoming  vehemence  of  disapproval.  I 
attribute  my  sneaking  kindness  for  him  —  for  to 
that  and  not  much  less  I  must  plead  guilty  — 
partly  indeed  to  the  revelation  of  a  passion  in 
him  that  seemed  to  leave  him  hardly  responsible 
for  the  wrong  he  plotted,  but  far  more  to  the 
incidents  of  this  night,  in  which  I  was  in  a 
manner  his  comrade  and  the  partner  with  him 
in  an  adventure.  To  have  stood  shoulder  to 
shoulder  with  a  man  blinds  his  faults  —  and  the 
duke  bore  himself,  not  merely  with  the  coolness 
and  courage  which  I  made  no  doubt  of  his  dis- 
playing, but  with  a  readiness  and  zest  remark- 
able at  any  time,  but  more  striking  when  they 
followed  on  the  paroxysm  to  which  I  had  seen 
him  helplessly  subject.  These  indications  of 
good  in  the  man  mollified  my  dislike  and 


FOR  AN  EMPTY  BOX.  131 

attached  me  to  him  by  a  bond  which  begot 
toleration  and  resists  even  the  clearer  and  more 
piercing  analysis  of  memory.  Therefore,  when 
those  who  speak  to  me  of  what  he  did  and 
sought  to  do  say  what  I  cannot  help  admitting 
to  be  true,  I  hold  my  peace,  thinking  that  the 
duke  and  I  have  played  as  partners  as  well  as 
on  hostile  sides,  and  that  I,  being  no  saint,  may 
well  hold  my  tongue  about  the  faults  of  a  fel- 
low-sinner. Moreover, — and  this  is  the  thing  of 
all  strongest  to  temper  or  to  twist  my  judgment 
of  him,— I  feel  often  as  though  it  were  he  who 
laid  his  ringer  on  my  blind  eyes  and  bade  me 
look  up  and  see  where  lay  my  happiness.  For 
it  is  strange  how  long  a  man  can  go  without 
discovering  his  own  undermost  desire.  Yet, 
when  seen,  how  swift  it  grows  ! 

Quiet  and  still  we  stood  in  the  bay  of  the 
staircase,  and  the  steps  over  our  heads  creaked 
under  the  feet  of  the  men  who  came  down. 
The  duke's  hand  was  on  my  arm,  restraining 
me,  and  he  held  it  there  till  the  feet  had  passed 
above  us  and  the  stealthy  tread  landed  on  the 
marble  flagging  of  the  hall.  We  thrust  our 
heads  out  and  peered  through  the  darkness.  I 
saw  the  figures  of  two  men,  one  following  the 
other  toward  the  front  door ;  this  the  first  and 
taller  unfastened  and  noiselessly  opened ;  and 
he  and  his  fellow,  whom,  by  the  added  light 
which  entered,  I  perceived  to  be  carrying  a  box 
or  case  of  moderate  size,  waited  for  a  moment 
on  the  threshold.  Then  they  passed  out,  draw- 
ing the  door  close  after  them. 

Still  the  duke  held  me  back,  and  we  rested 


132    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

where  we  were  three  or  four  minutes.  Then  he 
whispered,  "  Come,"  and  we  stole  across  the 
hall  after  them  and  found  ourselves  outside. 
It  must  have  been  about  half-past  two  o'clock 
in  the  morning  ;  there  was  no  moon  and  it  was 
rather  dark.  The  duke  turned  sharp  to  the  left 
and  led  me  to  the  bypath,  and  there,  a  couple 
of  hundred  yards  ahead  of  us,  we  saw  a  cube  of 
light  that  came  from  a  dark  lantern. 

The  duke's  face  was  dimly  visible,  and  an 
amused  smile  played  on  his  lips  as  he  said 
softly : 

"  Lafleur  and  Pierre  !  They  think  they've  got 
the  necklace ! " 

Was  this  the  meaning  of  Pierre's  appearance 
in  the  role  of  my  successor?  The  idea  sug- 
gested itself  to  me  in  a  moment,  and  I  strove  to 
read  my  companion's  face  for  a  confirmation. 

"  We'll  see  where  they  go,"  he  whispered, 
and  then  laid  his  finger  on  his  lips.  Amuse- 
ment sounded  in  his  voice  ;  indeed  it  was  im- 
possible not  to  perceive  the  humor  of  the  posi- 
tion, when  I  felt  the  Cardinal's  Necklace  against 
my  own  ribs. 

We  were  walking  now  under  cover  of  the 
trees  which  lined  the  sides  of  the  path,  so  that 
no  backward  glance  could  discover  us  to  the 
thieves ;  and  I  was  wondering  how  long  we 
were  thus  to  dog  their  steps,  when  suddenly 
they  turned  to  the  left  about  fifty  yards  short  of 
the  spot  where  old  Jean's  cottage  stood,  and 
disappeared  from  our  sight.  We  emerged  into 
the  path,  the  duke  taking  the  lead.  He  was 
walking  more  briskly  now,  and  I  saw  him 


FOR  AN  EMPTY  BOX.  133 

examine  his  pistol.  When  we  came  where  the 
fellows  had  turned,  we  followed  in  their  track. 

The  first  distant  hint  of  approaching  morning 
caught  the  tops  of  the  trees  above  us,  turning 
them  from  black  to  a  deep  chill  gray,  as  we  paused 
to  listen.  Our  pursuit  had  brought  us  directly 
behind  the  cottage,  which  now  stood  about  a 
hundred  yards  on  the  right ;  and  then  we  came 
upon  them— or  rather  suddenly  stopped  and 
crouched  down  to  avoid  coming  upon  them—- 
where they  were  squatting  on  the  ground  with  a 
black  iron  box  between  them,  and  the  lantern's 
light  thrown  on  the  keyhole  of  the  box.  Lafleur 
held  the  lantern  ;  Pierre's  hand  was  near  the 
lock,  and  I  presumed — I  could  not  see — that 
he  held  some  instrument  with  which  he  meant 
to  open  it.  A  ring  of  trees  framed  the  picture, 
and  the  men  sat  in  a  hollow,  well  hidden  from 
the  path  even  had  it  been  high  day. 

The  Duke  of  Saint-Maclou  touched  my  arm, 
and  I  leaned  forward  to  look  in  his  face.  He 
nodded,  and,  brushing  aside  the  trees,  we  sprang 
out  upon  the  astonished  fellows.  For  a  moment 
they  did  not  move,  struck  motionless  with  sur- 
prise, while  we  stood  over  them,  pistols  in  hand. 
We  had  caught  them  fair  and  square.  Expect- 
ing no  interruption,  they  had  guarded  against 
none.  Their  weapons  were  in  their  pockets, 
their  hands  busy  with  their  job.  They  sprang 
up  the  next  moment ;  but  the  duke's  muzzle 
covered  Lafleur,  and  mine  was  leveled  full  at 
Pierre.  A  second  later  Lafleur  fell  on  his  knees 
with  a  cry  for  mercy  ;  the  little  man  stood  quite 
still,  his  arms  by  his  side  and  the  iron  box  hard 


134   THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

by  his  feet.  Lafleur's  protestations  and  lamen- 
tations began  to  flow  fast.  Pierre,  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  The  duke  advanced,  and  I  kept 
pace  with  him. 

"  Keep  your  eye  on  that  fellow,  Mr.  Aycon," 
said  the  duke  ;  and  then  he  put  his  left  hand  in 
his  pocket,  took  out  a  key  and  flung  it  in 
Lafleur's  face.  It  struck  him  sharply  between 
the  eyes,  and  he  whined  again. 

"Open  the  box,"  said  the  duke.  "  Open  it — 
do  you  hear  ?  This  instant !  " 

With  shaking  hands  the  fellow  dragged  the 
box  from  where  it  lay  by  Pierre's  feet,  and 
dropping  on  his  knees  began  to  fumble  with  the 
lock.  At  last  he  contrived  to  unlock  it,  and 
raised  the  lid.  The  duke  sprang  forward  and, 
catching  him  by  the  nape  of  the  neck,  crammed 
his  head  down  into  the  box,  bidding  him, 
"  Look — look— look  !  "  And  while  he  said  it  he 
laughed,  and  took  advantage  of  Lafleur's  pos- 
ture to  give  him  four  or  five  hearty  kicks. 

"  It's  empty !  "  cried  Lafleur,  surprise  rescuing 
him  for  an  instant  from  the  other  emotions  to 
which  his  position  gave  occasion.  And,  as  he 
spoke,  for  the  first  time  Pierre  started,  turning 
an  eager  gaze  toward  the  box. 

"  Yes,  it's  empty,"  said  the  duke.  "  The 
necklace  isn't  there,  is  it  ?  Now,  tell  me  all 
about  it,  or  I'll  put  a  bullet  through  your 
head  !  " 

Then  the  story  came  :  disentangled  from  the 
excuses  and  prayers,  it  was  simply  that  Pierre 
was  no  footman  but  a  noted  thief — that  he  had 
long  meditated  an  attack  on  the  Cardinal's 


FOR  AN  EMPTY  BOX.  135 

Necklace  ;  had  made  Lafleur's  acquaintance  in 
Paris,  corrupted  his  facile  virtue,  and,  with  the 
aid  of  forged  testimonials,  presented  himself  in 
the  character  in  which  I  had  first  made  his 
acquaintance.  The  rascals  had  counted  on  the 
duke's  preoccupation  with  Marie  Delhasse  for 
their  opportunity.  The  duke  smiled  to  hear  it. 
Pierre  listened  to  the  whole  story  without  a 
word  of  protest  or  denial ;  his  accomplice's 
cowardly  attempt  to  present  him  as  the  only 
culprit  gained  no  more  notice  than  another 
shrug  and  a  softly  muttered  oath.  "  Destiny," 
the  little  man  seemed  to  say  in  the  eloquent 
movement  of  his  shoulders  ;  while  the  growing 
light  showed  his  beady  eyes  fixed,  full  and 
unfaltering,  on  me. 

Lafleur's  prayers  died  away.  The  duke,  still 
smiling,  set  his  pistol  against  the  wretch's 
head. 

"  That's  what  you  deserve,"  said  he. 

And  Lafleur,  groveling,  caught  him  by  the 
knees. 

"  Don't  kill  me !    Don't  kill  me !  "  he  implored. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  the  duke,  in  the  tone  of 
a  man  willing  to  hear  the  other  side,  but  certain 
that  he  would  not  be  convinced  by  it.  "  Why 
not  ?  We  find  you  stealing — and  we  shoot  you 
as  you  try  to  escape.  I  see  nothing  unnatural 
or  illegal  in  it,  Lafleur.  Nor  do  I  see  anything 
in  favor  of  leaving  you  alive." 

And  the  pistol  pressed  still  on  Lafleur's  fore- 
head. Whether  his  master  meant  to  shoot,  I 
know  not — although  I  believe  he  did.  But 
Lafleur  had  little  doubt  of  his  purpose  ;  for  he 


I3&'   THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

hastened  to  play  his  best  card,  and,  clinging 
still  to  the  duke's  knees,  cried  desperately : 

"  If  you'll  spare  me,  I'll  tell  you  where  she 
is!" 

The  duke's  arm  fell  to  his  side;  and  in  a 
changed  voice,  from  which  the  cruel  bantering 
had  fled,  while  eager  excitement  filled  its  place, 
he  cried  : 

"  What  ?    Where  who  is  ?  " 

"The  lady— Mile.  Delhasse.  A  girl  I 
know — there  in  Avranches — saw  her  go.  She 
is  there  now." 

"  Where,  man,  where  ?  "  roared  the  duke, 
stamping  his  foot,  and  menacing  the  wretch 
again  with  his  pistol. 

I  turned  to  listen,  forgetful  of  quiet  little 
Pierre  and  his  alert  beady  eyes ;  yet  I  kept  the 
pistol  on  him. 

And  Lafleur  cried  : 

"  At  the  convent — at  the  convent,  on  the 
shores  of  the  bay !  " 

"  My  God  !  "  cried  the  duke,  and  his  eyes 
suddenly  turned  and  flashed  on  mine;  and  I 
saw  that  the  necklace  was  forgotten,  that  our 
partnership  was  ended,  and  that  I  again,  and  no 
longer  the  cowering  creature  before  him,  was 
the  enemy.  And  I  also,  hearing  that  Marie 
Delhasse  was  at  the  convent,  was  telling  myself 
that  I  was  a  fool  not  to  have  thought  of  it 
before,  and  wondering  what  new  impulse  had 
seized  the  duke's  wayward  mind. 

Thus  neither  the  duke  nor  I  was  attending 
to  the  business  of  the  moment.  But  there  was 
a  man  of  busy  brain,  whose  life  taught  him  to 


FOR  AN  EMPTY  BOX.  137 

profit  by  the  slips  of  other  men  and  to  let  pass 
no  opportunities.  Our  carelessness  gave  one 
now — a  chance  of  escape,  and  a  chance  of 
something  else  too.  For,  while  my  negligent 
hand  dropped  to  my  side  and  my  eyes  were 
seeking  to  read  the  duke's  face,  the  figure 
opposite  me  must  have  been  moving.  Softly 
must  a  deft  hand  have  crept  to  a  pocket ;  softly 
came  forth  the  hidden  weapon.  There  was 
a  report  loud  and  sudden ;  and  then  another. 
And  with  the  first,  Lafleur,  who  was  kneeling 
at  the  duke's  feet  and  looking  up  to  see  how 
his  shaft  had  sped,  flung  his  arms  wildly  over 
his  head,  gave  a  shriek,  and  fell  dead — his 
head,  half-shattered,  striking  the  iron  box  as  he 
fell  sideways  in  a  heap  on  the  ground. 

The  duke  sprang  back  with  an  oath,  whose 
sound  was  engulfed  in  the  second  discharge  of 
Pierre's  pistol :  and  I  felt  myself  struck  in  the 
right  arm  ;  and  my  weapon  fell  to  the  ground, 
while  I  clutched  the  wounded  limb  with  my  left 
hand. 

The  duke,  after  a  moment's  hesitation  and 
bewilderment,  raised  his  pistol  and  fired  ;  but 
the  active  little  scoundrel  was  safe  among  the 
trees,  and  we  heard  the  twigs  cracking  and  the 
leaves  rustling  as  he  pushed  his  way  through 
the  wood.  He  was  gone — scot  free  for  us,  but 
with  his  score  to  Lafleur  well  paid.  I  swayed 
where  I  stood,  to  and  fro  :  the  pain  was  consid- 
erable, and  things  seemed  to  go.  round  before 
my  eyes ;  yet  I  turned  to  my  companion,  crying : 

"After  him  !     He'll  get  off  !     I'm  hit ;  I  can't 


138    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

The  duke  stood  still,  frowning ;  then  he 
slowly  dropped  his  smoking  pistol  into  his 
pocket.  For  a  moment  longer  he  stood,  and  a 
smile  broadened  on  his  face  as  he  raised  his 
eyes  to  me. 

"  Let  him,"  he  said  briefly  ;  and  his  glance 
rested  on  me  for  a  moment  in  defiant  signifi- 
cance. And  then,  without  another  word,  he 
turned  on  his  heel.  He  took  no  heed  of  Lafleur's 
dead  body,  that  seemed  to  fondle  the  box,  hud- 
dling it  in  a  ghastly  embrace,  nor  of  me,  who 
swayed  and  tottered  and  sank  on  the  ground 
by  the  corpse.  With  set  lips  and  eager  eyes 
he  passed  me,  taking  the  road  by  which  we  had 
come.  And  I,  hugging  my  wounded  arm,  with 
open  eyes  and  parted  lips,  saw  him  dive  in 
among  the  trees  and  disappear  toward  the 
house.  And  I  looked  round  on  the  iron  box 
and  the  dead  body — two  caskets  robbed  of  all 
that  made  them  more  than  empty  lumber. 

Minute  followed  minute ;  and  then  I  heard 
the  hoofs  of  a  horse  galloping  at  full  speed 
along  the  road  from  the  house  toward 
Avranches.  Lafleur  was  dead  and  done  with  ; 
Pierre  might  go  his  ways  ;  I  lay  fainting  in  the 
wood  ;  the  Cardinal's  Necklace  was  still  against 
my  side.  What  recked  the  Duke  of  Saint- 
Maclou  of  all  that  ?  I  knew,  as  I  heard  the 
thud  of  the  hoofs  on  the  road,  that  by  the  time 
the  first  reddening  rays  reached  over  the  horizon 
he  would  be  at  the  convent,  seeking  the  woman 
who  was  all  the  world  to  him. 

And  I  sat  there  helpless,  fearful  of  what  would 
befall  her.  For  what  could  a  convent  full  of 


FOR  AN  EMPTY  BOX.  139 

women  avail  against  his  mastering  rage  ?  And 
a  sudden  sharp  pang  ran  through  me,  startling 
even  myself  in  its  intensity ;  so  that  I  cried  out 
aloud,  raising  my  sound  arm  in  the  air  toward 
Heaven,  like  a  man  who  swears  a  vow  : 
"  By  God,  no  !  By  God,  no — no  1 " 


CHAPTER  XV. 
1T  Cbooee  my  TKHag* 

[]HE  dead  man  lay  there,  embracing  the 
empty  box  that  had  brought  him  to 
his  death  ;  and  for  many  minutes  I 
sat  within  a  yard  of  him,  detained  by 
the  fascination  and  grim  mockery  of  the  picture 
no  less  than  by  physical  weakness  and  a  numb- 
ness of  my  brain.  My  body  refused  to  act,  and 
my  mind  hardly  urged  its  indolent  servant.  I 
was  in  sore  distress  for  Marie  Delhasse, — my 
vehement  cry  witnessed  it, — yet  I  had  not  the 
will  to  move  to  her  aid ;  will  and  power  both 
seemed  to  fail  me.  I  could  fear,  I  could  shrink 
with  horror,  but  I  could  not  act ;  nor  did  I 
move  till  the  increasing  pain  of  my  wound  drove 
me,  as  it  might  any  unintelligent  creature,  to 
scramble  to  my  feet  and  seek,  half-blindly,  for 
some  place  that  should  afford  shelter  and 
succor. 

Leaving  Lafleur  and  the  box  where  they  lay, 
a  pretty  spectacle  for  a  moralist,  I  stumbled 
through  the  wood  back  to  the  path,  and  stood 
there  in  helpless  vacillation.  At  the  house  I 
should  find  better  attendance,  but  old  Jean's 
cottage  was  nearer.  The  indolence  of  weak- 
ness gained  the  day,  and  I  directed  my  steps 
140 


/  CHOOSE  MY   WAY.  141 

toward  the  cottage,  thinking  now,  so  far  as  I 
can  recollect,  of  none  of  the  exciting  events  of 
the  night  nor  even  of  what  the  future  still  held, 
but  purely  and  wholly  of  the  fact  that  in  the 
cottage  I  should  find  a  fire  and  a  bed.  The 
root-instincts  of  the  natural  man — the  primeval 
elementary  wants — asserted  their  supremacy 
and  claimed  a  monopoly  of  my  mind,  driving 
out  all  rival  emotions,  and  with  a  mighty  sigh 
of  relief  and  content  I  pushed  open  the  door  of 
the  cottage,  staggered  across  to  the  fire  and 
sank  down  on  the  stool  by  it,  thanking  Heaven 
for  so  much,  and  telling  myself  that  soon,  very 
soon,  I  should  feel  strong  enough  to  make  my 
way  into  the  inner  room  and  haul  out  Jean's 
pallet  and  set  it  by  the  fire  and  stretch  my 
weary  limbs,  and,  if  the  pain  of  my  wound 
allowed  me,  go  to  sleep.  Beyond  that  my 
desires  did  not  reach,  and  I  forgot  all  my  fears 
save  the  one  dread  that  I  was  too  weak  for  the 
desired  effort.  Certainly  it  is  hard  for  a  man  to 
think  himself  a  hero ! 

I  took  no  note  of  time,  but  I  must  have  sat 
where  I  was  for  many  minutes,  before  I  heard 
someone  moving  in  the  inner  room.  I  was  very 
glad  ;  of  course  it  was  Jean,  and  Jean,  I  told 
myself  with  luxurious  self-congratulation,  would 
bring  the  bed  for  me,  and  put  something  on  my 
wound,  and  maybe  give  me  a  drink  of  some  fine 
hot  cognac  that  would  spread  life  through  my 
veins.  Thus  I  should  be  comfortable  and  able 
to  sleep,  and  forget  all  the  shadowy  people — 
they  seemed  but  shadows  half-real — that  I  had 
been  troubling  my  brain  about :  the  duke,  and 


142    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

Marie,  whose  face  danced  for  a  moment  before 
my  eyes,  and  that  dead  fellow  who  hugged  the 
box  so  ludicrously.  So  I  tried  to  call  to  Jean, 
but  the  trouble  was  too  great,  and,  as  he  would 
be  sure  to  come  out  soon,  I  waited  ;  and  I 
blinked  at  the  smoldering  wood-ashes  in  the 
fire  till  my  eyes  closed  and  the  sleep  was  all 
but  come,  despite  the  smart  of  my  arm  and  the 
ache  in  my  unsupported  back. 

But  just  before  I  had  forgotten  everything 
the  door  of  the  inner  room  creaked  and  opened. 
My  side  was  toward  it  and  I  did  not  look 
round.  I  opened  my  eyes  and  feebly  waved 
my  left  hand.  Then  a  voice  came,  clear  and 
fresh : 

"Jean,  is  it  you?  Well,  is  the  duke  at  the 
house  ?  " 

I  must  be  dreaming ;  that  was  my  immediate 
conviction,  for  the  voice  that  I  heard  was  a 
voice  I  knew  well,  but  one  not  likely  to  be 
heard  here,  in  Jean's  cottage,  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  morning.  Decidedly  I  was  dreaming,  and 
as  in  order  to  dream  a  man  must  be  asleep,  I 
was  pleased  at  the  idea  and  nodded  happily, 
smiling  and  blinking  in  self-congratulation.  But 
that  pleasant  minute  of  illusion  was  my  last ; 
for  the  voice  cried  in  tones  too  full  of  animation, 
too  void  of  dreamy  vagueness,  too  real  and 
actual  to  let  me  longer  set  them  down  as  made 
of  my  own  brain  : 

"  Heaven  !  Why,  it's  Mr.  Aycon  !  How  in 
the  world  do  you  come  here  ?  " 

To  feel  surprise  at  the  Duchess  of  Saint- 
Maclou  doing  anything  which  she  might  please 


/  CHOOSE  MY  W 'AY.  143 

to  do  or  being  anywhere  that  the  laws  of  Nature 
rendered  it  possible  she  should  be,  was  perhaps 
a  disposition  of  mind  of  which  I  should  have 
been  by  this  time  cured  ;  yet  I  was  surprised  to 
find  her  standing  in  the  doorway  that  led  from 
Jean's  little  bedroom  dressed  in  a  neat  walking  - 
gown  and  a  very  smart  hat,  her  hands  clasped 
in  the  surprise  which  she  shared  with  me  and 
her  eyes  gleaming  with  an  amused  delight  which 
found,  I  fear,  no  answer  in  my  heavy  bewildered 
gaze. 

"  I'm  getting  warm,"  said  I  at  first,  but  then 
I  made  an  effort  to  rouse  myself.  "  I  was  a  bit 
hurt,  you  know,"  I  went  on  ;  "  that  little  villain 
Pierre " 

"  Hurt !  "  cried  the  duchess,  springing  for- 
ward. "  How  ?  Oh,  my  dear  Mr.  Aycon,  how 
pale  you  are ! " 

After  that  remark  of  the  duchess',  I  remem- 
ber nothing  which  occurred  for  a  long  while. 
In  fact,  just  as  I  had  apprehended  that  I  was 
awake,  that  the  duchess  was  real,  and  that  it 
was  most  remarkable  to  find  her  in  Jean's  cot- 
tage, I  fainted,  and  the  duchess,  the  cottage,  and 
everything  else  vanished  from  sight  and  mind. 

When  next  I  became  part  of  the  waking 
world  I  found  myself  on  the  sofa  of  the  little 
room  in  the  duke's  house  which  I  was  beginning 
to  know  so  well.  I  felt  very  comfortable :  my 
arm  was  neatly  bandaged,  I  wore  a  clean  shirt. 
Suzanne  was  spreading  a  meal  on  the  table,  and 
the  duchess,  in  a  charming  morning  gown,  was 
smiling  at  me  and  humming  a  tune.  The  clock 
on  the  mantelpiece  marked  a  quarter  to  eight. 


144    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  Now  I  know  all  about  it,"  said  the  duchess, 
perceiving  my  revival.  "  I've  heard  it  all  from 
Suzanne  and  Jean — or  anyhow  I  can  guess  the 
rest.  And  you  mustn't  tire  yourself  by  talking. 
I  had  you  brought  here  so  that  you  might  be 
well  looked  after ;  because  we're  so  much  in- 
debted to  you,  you  know." 

"  Is  the  duke  here  ?  "   I  asked. 

"  Oh,  dear,  no  ;  it's  all  right,"  nodded  the 
duchess.  "  I  don't  know — and  I  do  not  care — 
where  the  duke  is.  Drink  this  milk,  Mr.  Aycon. 
Your  arm's  not  very  bad,  you  know — Jean  says 
it  isn't,  I  mean — but  you'd  better  have  milk  first, 
and  something  to  eat  when  you  feel  stronger." 

The  duchess  appeared  to  be  in  excellent 
spirits.  She  caught  up  a  bit  of  toast  from  the 
table,  poured  out  a  cup  of  coffee,  and,  still 
moving  about,  began  a  light  breakfast,  with 
every  sign  of  appetite  and  enjoyment. 

"  You've  come  back  ?  "  said  I,  looking  at  her 
in  persistent  surprise. 

Suzanne  put  the  cushions  behind  my  back  in 
a  more  comfortable  position,  smiled  kindly  on 
us,  and  left  us. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  duchess,  "  I  have  for  the 
present,  Mr.  Aycon." 

"  But — but  the  duke "  I  stammered. 

"  I  don't  mind  the  duke,"  said  she.  "  Besides, 
he  may  not  come.  It's  rather  nice  that  you're 
just  a  little  hurt.  Don't  you  %iink  so,  Mr. 
Aycon  ?  Just  a  little,  you  know." 

"  Why  ?  "  was  all  I  found  to  say.  The  reason 
was  not  clear  to  me. 

"Why,  in  the  first  place,  because  you  can't 


/  CHOOSE  MY  WAY.  145 

fight  till  your  arm's  well — oh,  yes,  of  course 
Armand  was  going  to  fight  you — and,  in  the 
second  place,  you  can  and  must  stay  here. 
There's  no  harm  in  it,  while  you're  ill,  you  see ; 
Armand  can't  say  there  is.  It's  rather  funny, 
isn't  it,  Mr,  Aycon  ? "  and  she  munched  a 
morsel  of  toast,  and  leaned  her  elbows  on  the 
table  and  sent  a  sparkling  glance  across  at  me, 
for  all  the  world  as  she  had  done  on  the  first 
night  I  knew  her.  The  cares  of  the  world 
did  not  gall  the  shoulders  of  Mme.  de  Saint- 
Maclou. 

"  But  why  are  you  here  ?  "  said  I,  sticking  to 
my  point. 

The  duchess  set  down  the  cup  of  coffee  which 
she  had  been  sipping. 

"  I  am  not  particular,"  said  she.  "  But  I  told 
the  Mother  Superior  exactly  what  I  told  the 
duke.  She  wouldn't  listen  any  more  than  he 
would.  However,  I  was  resolved ;  so  I  came 
here.  I  don't  see  where  else  I  could  go,  do 
you,  Mr.  Aycon  ?  " 

"  What  did  you  tell  the  Mother  ?  " 

The  duchess  stretched  one  hand  across  the 
table,  clenching  her  small  fist  and  tapping 
gently  with  it  on  the  cloth. 

"  There  is  one  thing  that  I  will  not  do,  Mr. 
Aycon,"  said  she,  a  touch  of  red  coming  in  her 
cheeks  and  her  lips  set  in  obstinate  lines.  "  I 
don't  care  whether  the  house  is  my  house  or  any- 
body else's  house,  or  an  inn — yes,  or  a  convent 
either.  But  I  will  not  be  under  the  same  roof 
with  Marie  Delhasse." 

And  her  declaration   finished,   the  duchess 


146    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

nodded  most  emphatically,  and  turned  to  her 
cup  again. 

The  name  of  Marie  Delhasse,  shot  forth  from 
Mme.  de  Saint-Maclou's  pouting  lips,  pierced 
the  cloud  that  had  seemed  to  envelop  my  brain. 
I  sat  up  on  the  sofa  and  looked  eagerly  at  the 
duchess. 

"  You  saw  her,  then,  at  the  convent  ?  "  I 
asked. 

"  Yes,  I  met  her  in  the  chapel.  Really,  I 
should  have  expected  to  be  safe  from  her  there. 
And  the  Mother  would  not  turn  her  out ! " 
And  then  the  duchess,  by  a  sudden  transition, 
said  to  me,  with  a  half-apologetic,  half  chal- 
lenging smile  :  "  You  got  my  note,  I  suppose, 
Mr.  Aycon  ?  " 

For  a  minute  I  regarded  the  duchess.  And 
I  smiled,  and  my  smile  turned  to  a  laugh  as  I 
answered  : 

"  Oh,  yes  !   I  got  the  note." 

"  I  meant  it,"  said  she.  "  But  I  suppose  I 
must  forgive  you  now.  You've  been  so  brave, 
and  you're  so  much  hurt."  And  the  duchess' 
eyes  expressed  a  gratifying  admiration  of  my 
powers. 

I  fingered  my  arm,  which  lay  comfortably 
enough  in  the  bandages  and  the  sling  that 
Suzanne's  care  had  provided  for  it.  And  I  rose 
to  my  feet. 

"  Oh,  you  mustn't  move !  "  cried  the  duchess, 
rising  also  and  coming  to  where  I  stood. 

"  By  Jove,  but  I  must  ! "  said  I,  looking  at 
the  clock.  "  The  duke's  got  four  hours'  start 
of  me." 


/  CHOOSE  MY  WA  F.  147 

"  What  do  you  want  with  my  husband  now  ?  " 
she  asked.  "  I  don't  see  why  you  should  fight 
him  ;  anyhow,  you  can't  fight  him  till  your  arm 
is  well." 

The  duchess'  words  struck  on  my  ear  and 
her  dainty  little  figure  was  before  my  eyes,  but 
my  thoughts  were  absent  from  her. 

"  Don't  go,  Mr.  Aycon,"  said  she. 

"  I  must  go,"  I  said.  "  By  this  time  he'll  be 
at  the  convent." 

A  frown  gathered  on  the  duchess'  face. 

"  What  concern  is  it  of  yours  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  I — I  mean,  what  good  can  you  do  ?  " 

"  I  can  hardly  talk  to  you  about  it "  I 

began  awkwardly ;  but  the  duchess  saved  me 
the  trouble  of  finishing  my  sentence,  for  she 
broke  in  angrily  : 

"  Oh,  as  if  I  believe  that !  Mr.  Aycon,  why 
are  you  going?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  see  that  the  duke  doesn't " 

"  Oh,  you  are  very  anxious — and  very  good, 
aren't  you  ?  Yes,  and  very  chivalrous  !  Mr. 
Aycon,  I  don't  care  what  he  does  ;  "  and  she 
looked  at  me  defiantly. 

"  But  I  do,"  said  I,  and  seeing  my  hat  on  the 
cabinet  by  the  wall,  I  walked  across  the  room 
and  stretched  out  my  hand  for  it.  The  duchess 
darted  after  me  and  stood  between  my  hat  and 
me. 

"  Why  do  you  care  ? "  she  asked,  with  a 
stamp  of  her  small  foot. 

There  were,  no  doubt,  many  most  sound  and 
plausible  reasons  for  caring — reasons  inde- 
pendent of  any  private  feelings  of  my  own  in 


148    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

regard  to  Marie  Delhasse ;  but  not  one  of  them 
did  I  give  to  the  duchess.  I  stood  before  her, 
looking,  I  fear,  very  embarrassed,  and  avoiding 
her  accusing  eyes. 

Then  the  duchess  flung  her  head  back,  and 
with  passionate  scorn  said  to  me : 

"  I  believe  you're  in  love  with  the  woman 
yourself ! " 

And  to  this  accusation  also  I  made  no  reply. 

"  Are  you  really  going  ? "  she  asked,  her 
voice  suddenly  passing  to  a  note  of  entreaty. 

"  I  must  go,"  said  I  obstinately,  callously, 
curtly. 

"  Then  go  !  "  cried  the  duchess.  "  And  never 
let  me  see  you  again !  " 

She  moved  aside,  and  I  sprang  forward  and 
seized  my  hat.  I  took  no  notice  of  the  duchess, 
and,  turning,  I  walked  straight  toward  the  door. 
But  before  I  reached  it  the  duchess  flung  herself 
on  the  sofa  and  buried  her  face  in  the  cushions. 
I  would  not  leave  her  like  that,  so  I  stood  and 
waited ;  but  my  tongue  still  refused  to  find  ex- 
cuses, and  still  I  was  in  a  fever  to  be  off. 

But  the  duchess  rose  again  and  stood  upright. 
She  was  rather  pale  and  her  lips  quivered,  but 
she  held  out  her  hand  to  me  with  a  smile.  And 
suddenly  I  understood  what  I  was  doing,  and 
that  for  the  second  time  the  proud  little  lady 
before  me  saw  herself  left  and  neglected  for  the 
sake  of  that  woman  whose  presence  made  even 
a  convent  uninhabitable  to  her  ;  and  the  bitter 
wound  that  her  pride  suffered  was  declared  in 
her  bearing  and  in  the  pathetic  effort  at  dignity 
which  she  had  summoned  up  to  hide  her  pain. 


I  CHOOSE  MY  WA  Y.  149 

Yet,  although  on  this  account  I  was  sorry  for 
her,  I  discerned  nothing  beyond  hurt  pride,  and 
was  angry  at  the  pride  for  the  sake  of  Marie 
Delhasse,  and  when  I  spoke  it  was  in  defense 
of  Marie  Delhasse,  and  not  in  comfort  to  the 
duchess. 

"  She  is  not  what  you  think,"  I  said. 

The  duchess  drew  herself  up  to  her  full 
height,  making  the  most  of  her  inches. 

"  Really,  Mr.  Aycon,"  said  she,  "  you  must 
forgive  me  if  I  do  not  discuss  that."  And  she 
paused,  and  then  added,  with  a  curl  of  her  lip  : 
"  You  and  my  husband  can  settle  that  between 
you  ;  "  and  with  a  motion  of  her  hand  she  signed 
to  me  to  leave  her. 

Looking  back  on  the  matter,  I  do  not  know 
that  I  had  any  reason  to  be  ashamed  or  to  feel 
myself  in  any  sort  a  traitor  to  the  duchess. 
Yet  some  such  feelings  I  had  as  I  backed  out  of 
the  room  leaving  her  standing  there  in  unwonted 
immobility,  her  eyes  haughty  and  cold,  her  lips 
set,  her  grace  congealed  to  stateliness,  her  gay 
agility  frozen  to  proud  stiffness. 

And  I  left  her  thus  standing  in  obedience  to 
the  potent  yet  still  but  half-understood  spell 
which  drew  me  from  her  side  and  would  not 
suffer  me  to  rest,  while  the  Duke  of  Saint- 
Maclou  was  working  his  devices  in  the  valley 
beneath  the  town  of  Avranches. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
1fnn  near  jpontoreon, 

HE  moment  I  found  myself  outside  the 
house — and  I  must  confess  that,  for 
reasons  which  I  have  indicated,  it  was 
a  relief  to  me  to  find  myself  there — I 
hastened  to  old  Jean's  cottage.  The  old  man 
was  eating  his  breakfast ;  his  stolidity  was  un- 
shaken by  the  events  of  the  night ;  he  mani- 
fested nothing  beyond  a  mild  satisfaction  that 
the  two  rascals  had  justified  his  opinion  of  them, 
and  a  resigned  regret  that  Pierre  had  not  shared 
the  fate  of  Lafleur.  He  told  me  that  his  in- 
quiries after  Marie  Delhasse  had  been  fruitless, 
and  added  that  he  supposed  there  would  be  a 
police  inquiry  into  the  attempted  robbery  and 
the  consequent  death  of  Lafleur  ;  indeed  he  was 
of  opinion  that  the  duke  had  gone  to  Avranches 
to  arrange  for  it  as  much  as  to  prosecute  his 
search  for  Marie.  I  seized  the  opportunity  to 
suggest  that  I  should  be  a  material  witness,  and 
urged  him  to  give  me  one  of  the  duke's  horses 
to  carry  me  to  Avranches.  He  grumbled  at 
my  request,  declaring  that  I  should  end  by  get- 
ting him  into  trouble  ;  but  a  few  francs  overcame 
his  scruples,  and  he  provided  me  with  a  sturdy 
animal,  which  I  promised  to  bring  or  send  back 
in  the  course  of  the  day. 


THE  INN  NEAR  PONTORSON.  15* 

Great  as  my  impatience  was,  I  was  compelled 
to  spend  the  first  hour  of  my  arrival  at  Avranches 
under  the  doctor's  hands.  He  discovered  to  my 
satisfaction  that  the  bullet  had  not  lodged  in  my 
arm  and  that  my  hurt  was  no  more  than  a  flesh- 
wound,  which  would,  if  all  went  well,  heal  in  a 
few  days.  He  enjoined  perfect  rest  and  freedom 
from  worry  and  excitement.  I  thanked  him, 
bowed  myself  out,  mounted  again,  and  rode  to 
the  hotel,  where  I  left  my  horse  with  instruc- 
tions for  its  return  to  its  owner.  Then,  at  my 
best  speed,  I  hastened  down  the  hill  again, 
reached  the  grounds  of  the  convent,  and  ap- 
proached the  door.  Perfect  rest  and  freedom 
from  excitement  were  unattainable  until  I  had 
learned  whether  Marie  Delhasse  was  still  safe 
within  the  old  white  walls  which  I  saw  before 
me ;  for,  though  I  could  not  trace  how  the 
change  in  me  had  come,  nor  track  its  growth, 
I  knew  now  that  if  she  were  there  the  walls 
held  what  was  of  the  greatest  moment  to  me 
in  all  the  world,  and  that  if  she  were  not 
there  the  world  was  a  hell  to  me  until  I  found 
her. 

I  was  about  to  ring  the  bell,  when  from  the 
gate  of  the  burial-ground  the  Mother  Superior 
came  at  a  slow  pace.  The  old  woman  was 
frowning  as  she  walked,  and  her  frown  deepened 
at  sight  of  me.  But  I,  caring  nothing  for  what 
she  thought,  ran  up  to  her,  crying  before  I  had 
well  reached  her : 

"  Is  Marie  Delhasse  still  here  ?  " 

The  Mother  stopped  dead,  and  regarded  me 
with  disapprobation. 


152    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  What  business  is  it  of  yours,  sir,  where  the 
young  woman  is  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  mean  her  no  harm,"  I  urged  eagerly.  "  If 
she  is  safe  here,  I  ask  to  know  no  more  ;  I  don't 
even  ask  to  see  her.  Is  she  here  ?  The 
Duchess  of  Saint-Maclou  told  me  that  you  re- 
fused to  send  her  away." 

"God  forbid  that  I  should  send  away  any 
sinner  who  will  find  refuge  here,"  she  said 
solemnly.  "  You  have  seen  the  duchess  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  she  is  at  home.    But  Mile.  Delhasse  ?  " 

But  the  old  woman  would  not  be  hurried. 
She  asked  again : 

"  What  concern  have  you,  sir,  with  Marie 
Delhasse  ?  " 

I  looked  her  in  the  face  as  I  answered 
plainly : 

"  To  save  her  from  the  Duke  of  Saint- 
Maclou." 

"  And  from  her  own  mother,  sir  ?  " 

"  Yes,  above  all  from  her  own  mother." 

The  old  woman  started  at  my  words ;  but 
there  was  no  change  in  the  level  calm  of  her 
voice  as  she  asked  : 

"  And  why  would  you  rescue  her  ?  " 

"  For  the  same  reason  that  any  gentleman 
would,  if  he  could.  If  you  want  more " 

She  held  up  her  hand  to  silence  me  ;  but  her 
look  was  gentler  and  her  voice  softer,  as  she 
said : 

*'  You,  sir,  cannot  save,  and  I  cannot  save, 
those  who  will  not  let  God  himself  save  them." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  I  cried  in  a  frenzy 
of  fear  and  eagerness. 


THE  INN  NEAR  PONTORSON.  153 

"  I  had  prayed  for  her,  and  talked  with  her. 
I  thought  I  had  seen  grace  in  her.  Well,  I 
know  not.  It  is  true  that  she  acted  as  her 
mother  bade  her.  But  I  fear  all  is  not  well." 

"  I  pray  you  to  speak  plainly.  Where  is 
she  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  where  she  is.  What  I  know, 
sir,  you  shall  know,  for  I  believe  you  come  in 
honesty.  This  morning — some  two  hours  ago 
— a  carriage  drove  from  the  town  here.  Mme. 
Delhasse  was  in  it,  and  with  her  the  Duke  of 
Saint-Maclou.  I  could  not  refuse  to  let  the 
woman  see  her  daughter.  They  spoke  together 
for  a  time ;  and  then  they  called  me,  and  Ma- 
rie— yes,  Marie  herself — begged  me  to  let  her 
see  the  duke.  So  they  came  here  where  we 
stand,  and  I  stood  a  few  yards  off.  They 
talked  earnestly  in  low  tones.  And  at  last 
Marie  came  to  me  (the  others  remaining  where 
they  were),  and  took  my  hand  and  kissed  it, 
thanking  me  and  bidding  me  adieu.  I  was 
grieved,  sir,  for  I  trusted  that  the  girl  had  found 
peace  here ;  and  she  was  in  the  way  to  make 
us  love  her.  '  Does  your  mother  bid  you  go  ?•' 
I  asked,  *  And  will  she  save  you  from  all 
harm  ?  '  And  she  answered  :  '  I  go  of  my  own 
will,  Mother;  but  I  go  hoping  to  return.' 
'You  swear  that  you  go  of  your  own  will?  '  I 
asked.  '  Yes,  of  my  own  will,'  she  said  firmly  ; 
but  she  was  near  to  weeping  as  she  spoke. 
Yet  what  could  I  do  ?  I  could  but  tell  her  that 
our  door — God's  door — was  never  shut.  That 
I  told  her  ;  and  with  a  heavy  heart,  being  able  to 
do  nothing  else,  I  let  her  go.  I  pray  God  no 


154      THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

harm  come  of  it.  But  I  thought  the  man's  face 
wore  a  look  of  triumph." 

"  By  Heaven,"  I  cried,  "  it  shall  not  wear  it 
for  long  !  Which  way  did  they  go  ?  " 

She  pointed  to  the  road  by  the  side  of  the 
bay,  leading  away  from  Avranches. 

"  That  way.  I  watched  the  carriage  and  its 
dust  till  I  saw  it  no  more,  because  of  the  wood 
that  lies  between  here  and  the  road.  You  pur- 
sue them,  sir  ?  " 

"  To  the  world's  end,  madame,  if  I  must." 

She  sighed  and  opened  her  lips  to  speak,  but 
no  words  came  ;  and  without  more,  I  turned 
and  left  her,  and  set  my  face  to  follow  the  car- 
riage. I  was,  I  think,  half-mad  with  anger  and 
bewilderment,  for  I  did  not  think  that  it  would 
be  time  well  spent  to  ascend  to  the  town  and 
obtain  a  vehicle  or  a  horse  ;  but  I  pressed  on 
afoot,  weary  and  in  pain  as  I  was,  along  the  hot 
white  road.  For  now  indeed  my  heart  was  on 
fire,  and  I  knew  that  beside  Marie  Delhasse 
everything  was  nothing.  So  at  first  impercep- 
tibly, slowly,  and  unobserved,  but  at  the  last 
with  a  swift  resistless  rush,  the  power  of  her 
beauty  and  of  the  soul  that  I  had  seemed  to  see 
in  her  won  upon  me  ;  and  that  moment,  when 
I  thought  that  she  had  yielded  to  her  enemy 
and  mine,  was  the  flowering  and  bloom  of  my 
love  for  her. 

Where  had  they  gone?  Not  to  the  duke's 
house,  or  I  should  have  met  them  as  I  rode  down 
earlier  in  the  morning.  Then  where  ?  France 
was  wide,  and  the  world  wider  :  my  steps  were 
slow.  Where  lay  the  use  of  the  chase  ?  In  the 


THE  INN  NEAR  PONTORSON.  155 

middle  of  the  road,  when  I  had  gone  perhaps  a 
mile,  I  stopped  dead.  I  was  beaten  and  sick  at 
heart,  and  I  searched  for  a  nook  of  shade  by  the 
wayside,  and  flung  myself  on  the  ground ;  and 
the  ache  of  my  arm  was  the  least  of  my  pain. 

As  I  lay  there,  my  eye  caught  sight  of  a  cloud 
of  dust  on  the  road.  For  a  moment  I  scanned  it 
eagerly,  and  then  fell  back  with  a  curse  of  dis- 
appointment. It  was  caused  by  a  man  on  a 
horse — and  the  man  was  not  the  duke.  But  in 
an  instant  I  was  sitting  up  again — for, as  the 
rider  drew  nearer,  trotting  briskly  along,  his 
form  and  air  was  familiar  to  me  ;  and  when  he 
came  opposite  to  me,  I  sprang  up  and  ran  out  to 
meet  him,  crying  out  to  him  : 

"  Gustave  !  Gu stave ! " 

It  was  Gustave  de  Berensac,  my  friend.  He 
reined  in  his  horse  and  greeted  me — and  he 
greeted  me  without  surprise,  but  not  without 
apparent  displeasure. 

"  I  thought  I  should  find  you  here  still,"  said 
he.  "  I  rode  over  to  seek  you.  Surely  you  are 
not  at  the  duchess'  ?  " 

His  tone  was  eloquent  of  remonstrance. 

"  I've  been  staying  at  the  inn." 

"  At  the  inn  ?  "  he  repeated,  looking  at  me 
curiously.  "  And  is  the  duchess  at  home  ?  " 

"  She's  at  home  now.     How  come  you  here  ?  " 

"  Ah,  my  friend,  and  how  comes  your  arm  in 
a  sling  ?  Well,  you  shall  have  my  story  first. 
I  expect  it  will  prove  shorter.  I  am  staying 
at  Pontorson  with  a  friend  who  is  quartered 
there." 

"  But  you  went  to  Paris." 


I$6    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

Gustave  leaned  down  to  me,  and  spoke  in  a 
low  impressive  tone : 

"  Gilbert,"  said  he,  "  I've  had  a  blow.  The 
day  after  I  got  to  Paris  I  heard  from  Lady 
Cynthia.  She's  going  to  be  married  to  a 
countryman  of  yours." 

Gustave  looked  very  doleful.  I  murmured 
condolence,  though  in  truth  I  cared,  just  then, 
not  a  straw  about  the  matter. 

"  So,"  he  continued,  "  I  seized  the  first  oppor- 
tunity for  a  little  change." 

There  was  a  pause.  Gustave's  mournful  eye 
ranged  over  the  landscape.  Then  he  said,  in  a 
patient,  sorrowful  voice : 

"  You  said  the  duchess  was  at  home  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she's  at  home  now." 

"  Ah  !  I  ask  again,  because  as  I  passed  the  inn 
on  the  way  between  here  and  Pontorson  I  saw 
in  the  courtyard " 

"  Yes,  yes,  what  ?  "  cried  I  in  sudden  eager- 
ness. 

"  What's  the  matter,  man  ?  I  saw  a  carriage 
with  some  luggage  on  it,  and  it  looked  like  the 

duke's,  and Hallo  !  Gilbert,  where  are  you 

going  ?  " 

"  I  can't  wait,  I  can't  wait !  "  I  called,  already 
three  or  four  yards  away. 

"  But  I  haven't  heard  how  you  got  your 
arm " 

"  I  can't  tell  you  now.     I  can't  wait !  " 

My  lethargy  had  vanished  ;  I  was  hot  to  be 
on  my  way  again. 

"  Is  the  man  mad  ?  "  he  cried  ;  and  he  put  his 
horse  to  a  quick  walk  to  keep  up  with  me. 


THE  INN  NEAR  PONTORSON.  157 

I  stopped  short. 

"  It  would  take  all  day  to  tell  you  the  story," 
I  said  impatiently. 

"  Still  I  should  like  to  know " 

"  I  can't  help  it.  Look  here,  Gustave,  the 
duchess  knows.  Go  and  see  her.  I  must  go 
on  now." 

Across  the  puzzled  mournful  eyes  of  the 
rejected  lover  and  bewildered  friend  I  thought 
I  saw  a  little  gleam. 

"  The  duchess  ?  "  said  he. 

"  Yes,  she's  all  alone.     The  duke's  not  there." 

"  Where  is  the  duke  ?  "  he  asked  ;  but,  as  it 
struck  me,  now  rather  in  precaution  than  in 
curiosity. 

"  That's  what  I'm  going  to  see,"  said  I. 

And  with  hope  and  resolution  born  again  in 
my  heart  I  broke  into  a  fair  run,  and,  with  a 
wave  of  my  hand,  left  Gustave  in  the  middle  of 
the  road,  staring  after  me  and  plainly  convinced 
that  I  was  mad.  Perhaps  I  was  not  far  from 
that  state.  Mad  or  not,  in  any  case  after  three 
minutes  I  thought  no  more  of  my  good  friend 
Gustave  de  Berensac,  nor  of  aught  else,  save 
the  inn  outside  Pontorson,  just  where  the  old 
road  used  to  turn  toward  Mont  St.  Michel.  To 
that  goal  I  pressed  on,  forgetting  my  weariness 
and  my  pain.  For  it  might  be  that  the  carriage 
would  still  stand  in  the  yard,  and  that  in  the 
house  I  should  come  upon  the  object  of  my 
search. 

Half  an  hour's  walk  brought  me  to  the  inn, 
and  there,  to  my  joy,  I  saw  the  carriage  drawn 
up  under  a  shed  side  by  side  with  the  inn- 


1 58    THE  INDISCRETION  OF   THE  DUCHESS. 

keeper's  market  cart.  The  horses  had  been 
taken  out;  there  was  no  servant  in  sight.  I 
walked  up  to  the  door  of  the  inn  and  passed 
through  it.  And  I  called  for  wine. 

A  big  stout  man,  wearing  a  blouse,  came  out 
to  meet  me.  The  inn  was  a  large  one,  and  the 
inn-keeper  was  evidently  a  man  of  some  con- 
sideration, although  he  wore  a  blouse.  But  I 
did  not  like  the  look  of  him,  for  he  had  shifty 
eyes  and  a  bloated  face.  Without  a  word  he 
brought  me  what  I  ordered  and  set  it  down  in 
a  little  room  facing  the  stable  yard. 

"  Whose  carriage  is  that  under  your  shed  ?  " 
I  asked,  sipping  my  wine. 

"  It  is  the  carriage  of  the  Duke  of  Saint- 
Maclou,  sir,"  he  answered  readily  enough. 

"  The  duke  is  here,  then  ?  " 

" Have  you  business  with  him,  sir?  " 

"  I  did  but  ask  you  a  simple  question,"  said  I. 
"  Ah  !  what's  that  ?  Who's  that  ?  " 

I  had  been  looking  out  of  the  window,  and 
my  sudden  exclamation  was  caused  by  this — 
that  the  door  of  a  stable  which  faced  me  had 
opened  very  gently,  and  but  just  wide  enough 
to  allow  a  face  to  appear  for  an  instant  and 
then  disappear.  And  it  seemed  to  me  that  I 
knew  the  face,  although  the  sight  of  it  had  been 
too  short  to  make  me  sure. 

"  What  did  you  see,  sir  ?  "  asked  the  inn- 
keeper. (The  name  on  his  signboard  was 
Jacques  Bontet.) 

I  turned  and  faced  him  full. 

"  I  saw  someone  look  out  of  the  stable," 
said  I. 


THE  INN  NEAR  PONTORSON.  159 

"  Doubtless  the  stable-boy,"  he  answered  ; 
and  his  manner  was  so  ordinary,  unembarrassed, 
and  free  from  alarm,  that  I  doubted  whether 
my  eyes  had  not  played  me  a  trick,  or  my 
imagination  played  one  upon  my  eyes. 

Be  that  as  it  might,  I  had  no  time  to  press 
my  host  further  at  that  moment ;  for  I  heard  a 
step  behind  me  and  a  voice  I  knew  saying : 

"  Bontet,  who  is  this  gentleman  ?  " 

I  turned.  In  the  doorway  of  the  room  stood 
the  Duke  of  Saint-Maclou.  He  was  in  the 
same  dress  as  when  he  had  parted  from  me  ; 
he  was  dusty,  his  face  was  pale,  and  the  skin  had 
made  bags  under  his  eyes.  But  he  stood  look- 
ing at  me  composedly,  with  a  smile  on  his  lips. 

"  Ah !  "  said  he,  "  it  is  my  friend  Mr.  Aycon. 
Bontet,  bring  me  some  wine,  too,  that  I  may 
drink  with  my  friend."  And  he  added,  address- 
ing me  :  "  You  will  find  our  good  Bontet  most 
obliging.  He  is  a  tenant  of  mine,  and  he  will 
do  anything  to  oblige  me  and  my  friends.  Isn't 
it  so,  Bontet?" 

The  fellow  grunted  a  surly  and  none  too  re- 
spectful assent,  and  left  the  room  to  fetch  the 
duke  his  wine.  Silence  followed  on  his  depar- 
ture for  some  seconds.  Then  the  duke  came 
up  to  where  I  stood,  folded  his  arms,  and 
looked  me  full  in  the  face. 

"It. is  difficult  to  lose  the  pleasure  of  your 
company,  sir,"  he  said. 

"  If  you  will  depart  from  here  alone,"  I  re- 
torted, "  you  shall  find  it  the  easiest  thing  in  the 
world.  For,  in  truth,  it  is  not  desire  for  your 
society  that  brings  me  here." 


160   THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

He  lifted  a  hand  and  tugged  at  his  mustache. 

"  You  have,  perhaps,  been  to  the  convent  ?  " 
he  hazarded. 

"  I  have  just  come  from  there,"  I  rejoined. 

"  I  am  not  an  Englishman,"  said  he,  curling 
the  end  of  the  mustache,  "  and  I  do  not  know 
how  plain  an  intimation  need  be  to  discourage 
one  of  your  resolute  race.  For  my  part,  I 
should  have  thought  that  when  a  lady  accepts 
the  escort  of  one  gentleman,  it  means  that  she 
does  not  desire  that  of  another." 

He  said  this  with  a  great  air  and  an  assump- 
tion of  dignity  that  contrasted  strongly  with  the 
unrestrained  paroxysms  of  the  night  before.  I 
take  it  that  success — or  what  seems  such — may 
transform  a  man  as  though  it  changed  his  very 
skin.  But  I  was  not  skilled  to  cross  swords 
with  him  in  talk  of  that  kind,  so  I  put  my 
hands  in  my  pockets  and  leaned  against  the 
shutter  and  said  bluntly  : 

"  God  knows  what  lies  you  told  her,  you  see." 

His  white  face  suddenly  flushed  ;  but  he  held 
himself  in  and  retorted  with  a  sneer : 

"  A  disabled  right  arm  gives  a  man  fine 
courage." 

"  Nonsense  ! "  said  I.  "  I  can  aim  as  well 
with  my  left ;"  and  that  indeed  was  not  very 
far  from  the  truth.  And  I  went  on  :  "  Is 
she  here?  " 

"  Mine,  and  Mile.  Delhasse  are  both  here, 
under  my  escort." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  Mile.  Delhasse,"  I 
observed. 

He  answered  me  in  low  tones,  but  with  the 


THE  INN  NEAR  PONTORSON.  l6l 

passion  in  him  closer  to  the  surface  now  and 
near  on  boiling  up  through  the  thin  film  of  his 
self-restraint : 

"  So  long  as  I  live,  you  shall  never  see  her." 

But  I  cared  not,  for  my  heart  leaped  in  joy  at 
his  words.  They  meant  to  me  that  he  dared 
not  let  me  see  her  ;  that,  be  the  meaning  of  her 
consent  to  go  with  him  what  it  might,  yet  he 
dared  not  match  his  power  over  her  against 
mine.  And  whence  came  the  power  he  feared  ? 
It  could  be  mine  only  if  I  had  touched  her 
heart. 

"  I  presume  she  may  see  whom  she  will,"  said 
I  still  carelessly. 

"  Her  mother  will  protect  her  from  you  with 
my  help." 

There  was  silence  for  a  minute.  Then  I 
said  : 

"  I  will  not  leave  here  without  seeing  her." 

And  a  pause  followed  my  words  till  the  duke, 
fixing  his  eyes  on  mine,  answered  significantly  : 

"  If  you  leave  here  alive  to-night,  you  are 
welcome  to  take  her  with  you." 

I  understood,  and  I  nodded  my  head. 

"  My  left  arm  is  as  sound  as  yours,"  he 
added  ;  "  and,  maybe,  better  practiced." 

Our  eyes  met  again,  and  the  agreement  was 
sealed.  The  duke  was  about  to  speak  again, 
when  a  sudden  thought  struck  me.  I  put  my 
hand  in  my  pocket  and  drew  out  the  Cardinal's 
Necklace.  And  I  flung  it  on  the  table  before 
me,  saying  : 

"  Let  me  return  that  to  you,  sir." 

The  duke  stood  regarding  the  necklace  for  a 


1 62    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

moment,  as  it  lay  gleaming  and  glittering  on  the 
wooden  table  in  the  bare  inn  parlor.  Then  he 
stepped  up  to  the  table,  but  at  the  moment  I 
cried : 

"  You  won't  steal  her  away  before — be- 
fore  " 

"  Before  we  fight  ?  I  will  not,  on  my  honor." 
He  paused  and  added  :  "  For  there  is  one  thing 
I  want  more  even  than  her." 

I  could  guess  what  that  was. 

And  then  he  put  out  his  hand,  took  up  the 
necklace,  and  thrust  it  carelessly  into  the  pocket 
of  his  coat.  And  looking  across  the  room,  I 
saw  the  inn-keeper,  Jacques  Bontet,  standing  in 
the  doorway  and  staring  with  all  his  eyes  at  the 
spot  on  the  table  where  the  glittering  thing  had 
for  a  moment  lain  ;  and  as  the  fellow  set  down 
the  wine  he  had  brought  for  the  duke,  I  swear 
that  he  trembled  as  a  man  who  has  seen  a 
ghost ;  for  he  spilled  some  of  the  wine  and 
chinked  the  bottle  against  the  glass.  But  while 
I  stared  at  him,  the  duke  lifted  his  glass  and 
bowed  to  me,  saying,  with  a  smile  and  as 
though  he  jested  in  some  phrase  of  extravagant 
friendship  for  me : 

"  May  nothing  less  than  death  part  you  and 
me  ?  " 

And  I  drank  the  toast  with  him,  saying 
"  Amen." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
B  IReluctant  ITntrusfon. 

[|S  Bontet  the  inn-keeper  set  the  wine 
on  the  table  before  the  Duke  of  Saint- 
Maclou,  the  big  clock  in  the  hall  of 
^^  the  inn  struck  noon.  It  is  strange  to 
me,  even  now  when  the  story  has  grown 
old  in  my  memory,  to  recall  all  that  happened 
before  the  hands  of  that  clock  pointed  again 
to  twelve.  And  last  year  when  I  revisited  the 
neighborhood  and  found  a  neat  new  house 
standing  on  the  site  of  the  ramshackle  inn,  I 
could  not  pass  by  without  a  queer  feeling  in  my 
throat ;  for  it  was  there  that  the  results  of  the 
duchess'  indiscretion  finally  worked  themselves 
out  to  their  unexpected,  fatal,  and  momentous 
ending.  Seldom,  as  I  should  suppose,  has  such 
a  mixed  skein  of  good  and  evil,  of  fatality  and 
happiness,  been  spun  from  material  no  more 
substantial  than  a  sportive  lady's  idle  freak. 

"  By  the  way,  Mr.  Aycon,"  said  the  duke, 
after  we  had  drunk  our  toast,  "  I  have  had  a 
message  from  the  magistrate  at  Avranches  re- 
questing our  presence  to-morrow  morning  at 
eleven  o'clock.  An  inquiry  has  to  be  held  into 
the  death  of  that  rascal  Lafleur,  and  our  evi- 
dence must  be  taken.  It  is  a  mere  formality, 
163 


164    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

the  magistrate  is  good  enough  to  assure  me, 
and  I  have  assured  him  that  we  shall  neither  of 
us  allow  anything  to  interfere  with  our  waiting 
on  him,  if  we  can  possibly  do  so." 

"  I  could  have  sent  no  other  message  myself," 
said  I. 

"  I  will  also,"  continued  the  duke,  "  send 
word  by  Bontet  here  to  those  two  friends  of 
mine  at  Pontorson.  It  would  be  dull  for  you 
to  dine  alone  with  me,  and,  as  the  evening  prom- 
ises to  be  fine,  I  will  ask  them  to  be  here  by 
five  o'clock,  and  we  will  have  a  stroll  on  the 
sands  and  a  nearer  look  at  the  Mount  before 
our  meal.  They  are  officers  who  are  quartered 
there." 

"  Their  presence,"  said  I,  "  will  add  greatly 
to  the  pleasure  of  the  evening." 

"  Meanwhile,  if  you  will  excuse  me,  I  shall 
take  an  hour  or  two's  rest.  We  missed  our 
sleep  last  night,  and  we  should  wish  to  be  fresh 
when  our  guests  arrive.  If  I  might  advise 
you " 

"  I  am  about  to  breakfast,  after  that  I  may 
follow  your  advice." 

"  Ah,  you've  not  breakfasted  ?  You  can't  do 
better,  then.  Au  revoir ;"  and  with  a  bow 
he  left  me,  calling  to  Bontet  to  follow  him  up- 
stairs and  wait  for  the  note  which  was  to  go  to 
the  officers  at  Pontorson.  It  must  be  admitted 
that  the  duke  conducted  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments with  much  tact. 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  my  breakfast  was 
before  me,  and  I  seated  myself  with  my  back 
to  the  door  and  my  face  to  the  window.  I  had 


A   RELUCTANT  INTRUSION.  165 

plenty  to  think  about  as  I  ate ;  but  my  chief 
anxiety  was  by  some  means  to  obtain  an  inter- 
view with  Marie  Delhasse,  not  with  a  view  to 
persuading  her  to  attempt  escape  with  me 
before  the  evening — for  I  had  made  up  my 
mind  that  the  issue  with  the  duke  must  be 
faced  now,  once  for  all — but  in  the  hope  of  dis- 
covering why  she  had  allowed  herself  to  be  per- 
suaded into  leaving  the  convent.  Until  I  knew 
that,  I  was  a  prey  to  wretched  doubts  and 
despondency,  which  even  my  deep-seated  con- 
fidence in  her  could  not  overcome.  Fortunately 
I  had  a  small  sum  of  money  in  my  pocket,  and 
I  felt  sure  that  Bontet's  devotion  to  the  duke 
would  not  be  proof  against  an  adequate  bribe : 
perhaps  he  would  be  able  to  assist  me  in  elud- 
ing the  vigilance  of  Madame  Delhasse  and 
obtaining  speech  with  her  daughter. 

Bontet,  detained  as  I  supposed  by  the  duke, 
had  left  a  kitchen-girl  to  attend  on  me ;  but  I 
soon  saw  him  come  out  into  the  yard,  carrying 
a  letter  in  his  hand.  He  walked  slowly  across 
to  the  stable  door,  at  which  the  face,  suddenly 
presented  and  withdrawn,  had  caught  my  atten- 
tion. He  stopped  before  the  door  a  moment, 
then  the  door  opened.  I  could  not  see  whether 
he  opened  it  or  whether  it  was  unlocked  from 
within,  for  his  burly  frame  obstructed  my  view ; 
but  the  pause  was  long  enough  to  show  that 
more  than  the  lifting  of  a  latch  was  necessary. 
And  that  I  thought  worth  notice.  The  door 
closed  after  Bontet.  I  rose,  opened  my  window 
and  listened  ;  but  the  yard  was  broad  and  no 
sound  reached  me  from  the  stable. 


1 66    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

I  waited  there  five  minutes  perhaps.  The 
inn-keeper  did  not  reappear,  so  I  returned  to 
my  place.  I  had  finished  my  meal  before  he 
came  out.  This  time  I  was  tolerably  sure  that 
the  door  was  closed  behind  him  by  another 
hand,  and  I  fancied  that  I  heard  the  click  of 
a  lock.  Also  I  noticed  that  the  letter  was  no 
longer  visible — of  course,  he  might  have  put  it 
in  his  pocket.  Jumping  up  suddenly  as  though 
I  had  just  chanced  to  notice  him,  I  asked  him 
if  he  were  off  to  Pontorson,  or,  if  not,  had  he  a 
moment  for  conversation. 

"  I  am  going  in  a  few  minutes,  sir,"  he 
answered  ;  "  but  I  am  at  your  service  now." 

The  words  were  civil  enough,  but  his  manner 
was  surly  and  suspicious.  Lighting  a  cigarette, 
I  sat  down  on  the  window-sill,  while  he  stood 
just  outside. 

"  I  want  a  bedroom,"  said  I.  "  Have  you 
one  for  me  ?  " 

"  I  have  given  you  the  room  on  the  first  floor, 
immediately  opposite  that  of  the  duke." 

"  Good.     And  where  are  the  ladies  lodged  ?  " 

He  made  no  difficulty  about  giving  me  an 
answer. 

"  They  have  a  sitting  room  on  the  first  floor," 
he  answered,  "  but  hitherto  they  have  not  used 
it.  They  have  two  bedrooms,  connected  by  an 
interior  door,  on  the  second  floor,  and  they 
have  not  left  them  since  their  arrival." 

"  Has  the  duke  visited  them  there  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  he  has  seen  them.  They  had 
a  conversation  on  their  arrival ;  "  and  the  fellow 
grinned. 


A   RELUCTANT  INTRUSION.  167 

Now  was  my  time.  I  took  a  hundred-franc 
note  out  of  my  pocket  and  held  it  in  my  hand 
so  that  he  could  see  the  figures  on  it.  I  hoped 
that  he  would  not  be  exorbitant,  for  I  had  but 
one  more  and  some  loose  napoleons  in  my 
pocket. 

"  What  was  the  conversation  about  ? "  I 
asked. 

He  put  out  his  hand  for  the  note ;  but  I  kept 
my  grasp  on  it.  Honesty  was  not  written 
large — no,  nor  plain  to  read — on  Bontet's  fat 
face. 

"  I  heard  little  of  it ;  but  the  young  lady  said, 
as  they  hurried  upstairs:  'Where  is  he? 
Where  is  he  ? ' ' 

"  Yes,  yes  ! " 

And  I  held  out  the  note  to  him.  He  had 
earned  it.  And  greedily  he  clutched  it,  and 
stowed  it  in  his  breeches  pocket  under  his 
blouse. 

"  I  heard  no  more  ;  they  hurried  her  up  ;  the 
old  lady  had  her  by  one  arm  and  the  duke  by 
the  other.  She  looked  distressed — why,  I  know 
not  ;  for  I  suppose  " — here  a  sly  grin  spread 
over  the  fellow's  face — "  that  the  pretty  present 
I  saw  is  for  her." 

"  It's  the  property  of  the  duke,"  I  said. 

"  But  gentlemen  sometimes  make  presents  to 
ladies,"  he  suggested. 

"  It  may  be  his  purpose  to  do  so.  Bontet,  I 
want  to  see  the  young  lady." 

He  laughed  insolently,  kicking  his  toe  against 
the  wall. 

"  What  use,  unless  you  have  a  better  present, 


1 68    THE  INDISCRETION  OF   THE  DUCHESS. 

sir?  But  it's  nothing  to  me.  If  you  can  man- 
age it,  you're  welcome." 

"  But  how  am  I  to  manage  it  ?  Come, 
earn  your  money,  and  perhaps  you'll  earn 
more." 

"  You're  liberal,  sir ;  "  and  he  stared  at  me 
as  though  he  were  trying  to  look  into  my  pocket 
and  see  how  much  money  was  there.  I  was 
glad  that  his  glance  was  not  so  penetrating. 
"  But  I  can't  help  you.  Stay,  though.  The  old 
lady  has  ordered  coffee  for  two  in  the  sitting- 
room,  and  bids  me  rouse  the  duke  when  it  is 
ready :  so  perhaps  the  young  lady  will  be  left 
alone  for  a  time.  If  you  could  steal  up " 

I  was  not  in  the  mood  to  stand  on  a  punctilio. 
My  brain  was  kindled  by  Marie's  words, 
"  Where  is  he  ?  "  Already  I  was  searching  for 
their  meaning  and  finding  what  I  wished.  If  I 
could  see  her.  and  learn  the  longed-for  truth 
from  her,  I  should  go  in  good  heart  to  my  con- 
flict with  the  duke. 

"Go  to  your  room,"  said  Bontet,  whom  my 
prospective  largesse  had  persuaded  to  civility 
and  almost  to  eagerness,  "  and  wait.  If 
madame  and  the  duke  go  there,  I'll  let  you 
know.  But  you  must  risk  meeting  them." 

"  I  don't  mind  about  that,"  said  I ;  and,  in 
truth,  nothing  could  make  my  relations  with  the 
pair  more  hostile  than  they  were  already. 

My  business  with  Bontet  was  finished  ;  but  I 
indulged  my  curiosity  for  a  moment. 

"  You  have  a  good  stable  over  there,  I  see," 
I  remarked.  "  How  many  horses  have  you 
there  ?  " 


A   RELUCTANT  INTRUSION.  169 

The  fellow  turned  very  red  :  all  signs  of  good 
humor  vanished  from  his  face ;  my  bribe  evi- 
dently gave  me  no  right  to  question  him  on  that 
subject. 

"  There  are  no  horses  there,"  he  grunted. 
"  The  horses  are  in  the  new  stable  facing  the 
road.  This  one  is  disused." 

"  Oh,  I  saw  you  come  out  from  there,  and  I 
thought " 

"  I  keep  some  stores  there,"  he  said  sullenly. 

"  And  that's  why  it's  kept  locked  ?  "  I  asked 
at  a  venture. 

"  Precisely,  sir,"  he  replied.  But  his  uneasy 
air  confirmed  my  suspicions  as  to  the  stable.  It 
hid  some  secret,  I  was  sure.  Nay,  I  began  to  be 
sure  that  my  eyes  had  not  played  me  false,  and 
that  I  had  indeed  seen  the  face  I  seemed  to  see. 
If  that  were  so,  friend  Bontet  was  playing  a 
double  game  and  probably  enjoying  more  than 
one  paymaster. 

However,  I  had  no  leisure  to  follow  that  track, 
nor  was  I  much  concerned  to  attempt  the  task. 
The  next  day  would  be  time — if  I  were  alive  the 
next  day :  and  I  cared  little  if  the  secret  were 
never  revealed.  It  was  nothing  to  me — for  it 
never  crossed  my  mind  that  fresh  designs  might 
be  hatched  in  the  stable.  Dismissing  the  mat- 
ter, I  did  as  Bontet  advised,  and  walked  upstairs 
to  my  room  ;  and  as  luck  would  have  it,  I  met 
Mme.  Delhasse  plump  on  the  landing,  she 
being  on  her  way  to  the  sitting  room.  I  bowed 
low.  Madame  gave  me  a  look  of  hatred  and 
passed  by  me.  As  she  displayed  no  surprise,  it 
was  evident  that  the  duke  had  carried  or  sent 


170    THE  INDISCRETION  OF   THE  DUCHESS. 

word  of  my  arrival.  I  was  not  minded  to  let 
her  go  without  a  word  or  two. 

"  Madame "  I  began  ;  but  she  was  too 

quick  for  me.  She  burst  out  in  a  torrent  of 
angry  abuse.  Her  resentment,  dammed  so  long 
for  want  of  opportunity,  carried  her  away.  To 
speak  soberly  and  by  the  card,  the  woman  was 
a  hideous  thing  to  see  and  hear ;  for  in  her 
wrath  at  me,  she  spared  not  to  set  forth  in  un- 
shamed  plainness  her  designs,  nor  to  declare  of 
what  rewards,  promised  by  the  duke,  my  inter- 
ference had  gone  near  to  rob  her  ank  still  ren- 
dered uncertain.  Her  voice  rose,  for  all  her 
efforts  to  keep  it  low,  and  she  mingled  foul 
words  of  the  duchess  and  of  me  with  scornful 
curses  on  the  virtue  of  her  daughter.  I  could 
say  nothing  ;  I  stood  there  wondering  that  such 
creatures  lived,  amazed  that  Marie  Delhasse 
must  call  such  an  one  her  mother. 

Then  in  the  midst  of  her  tirade,  the  duke, 
roused  without  Bontet's  help,  came  out  of  his 
room,  and  waited  a  moment  listening  to  the 
flow  of  the  torrent.  And,  strange  as  it  seemed, 
he  smiled  at  me  and  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
and  I  found  myself  smiling  also  ;  for  disgusting 
as  the  woman  was,  she  was  amusing,  too.  And 
the  duke  went  and  caught  her  by  the  shoulder 
and  said  : 

"  Come,  don't  be  silly,  mother.  We  can 
settle  our  accounts  with  Mr.  Aycon  in  another 
way  than  this." 

His  touch  and  words  seemed  to  sober  her — 
or  perhaps  her  passion  had  run  its  course.  She 
turned  to  him,  and  her  lips  parted  with  a 


A   RELUCTANT  INTRUSION.  17 1 

smile,  a  cunning  and — if  my  opinion  be  asked — 
a  loathsome  smile ;  and  she  caressed  the  lapel 
of  his  coat  with  her  hand.  And  the  duke,  who 
was  smoking,  smoked  on,  so  that  the  smoke 
blew  in  her  face,  and  she  coughed  and  choked  : 
whereat  the  duke  also  smiled.  He  set  the  right 
value  on  his  instrument,  and  took  pleasure  in 
showing  how  he  despised  her. 

"  My  dear,  dear  duke,  I  have  such  news  for 
you — such  news  ?  "  she  said,  ignoring,  as  per- 
force she  must,  his  rudeness.  "  Come  in  here, 
and  leave  that  man." 

At  this  the  duke  suddenly  bent  forward,  his 
scornful,  insolent  toleration  giving  place  to 
interest. 

"  News  ?  "  he  cried,  and  he  drew  her  toward 
the  door  to  which  she  had  been  going,  neither 
of  them  paying  any  more  attention  to  me.  And 
the  door  closed  upon  them. 

The  duke  had  not  needed  Bontet's  rousing. 
I  did  not  need  Bontet  to  tell  me  that  the  coast 
was  clear.  With  a  last  alert  glance  at  the  door, 
I  trod  softly  across  the  landing  and  reached  the 
stairs  by  which  Mme.  Delhasse  had  descended. 
Gently  I  mounted,  and  on  reaching  the  top  of 
the  flight  found  a  door  directly  facing  me.  I 
turned  the  handle,  but  the  door  was  locked.  I 
rattled  the  handle  cautiously— and  then  again, 
and  again.  And  presently  I  heard  a  light, 
timid,  hesitating  step  inside ;  and  through  the 
door  came,  in  the  voice  of  Marie  Delhasse  : 

"  Who's  there  ?  " 

And  I  answered  at  once,  boldly,  but  in  a  low 
voice  • 


172    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  It  is  I.     Open  the  door." 

She,  in  her  turn,  knew  my  voice ;  for  the  door 
was  opened,  and  Marie  Delhasse  stood  before 
me,  her  face  pale  with  weariness  and  sorrow, 
and  her  eyes  wide  with  wonder.  She  drew  back 
before  me,  and  I  stepped  in  and  shut  the  door, 
finding  myself  in  a  rather  large,  sparely  furnished 
room.  A  door  opposite  was  half-open.  On 
the  bed  lay  a  bonnet  and  a  jacket  which  cer- 
tainly did  not  belong  to  Marie. 

Most  undoubtedly  I  had  intruded  into  the 
bedchamber  of  that  highly  respectable  lady, 
Mme.  Delhasse.  I  can  only  plead  that  the  cir- 
cumstances were  peculiar. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
a  Strange  <3oo&  Ibumor, 

fiOR  a  moment  Marie  Delhasse  stood 
looking  at  me  ;  then  she  uttered  a  low 
cry,  full  of  relief,  of  security,  of  joy ; 
and  coming  to  me  stretched  out  her 
hands,  saying : 

"  You  are  here  then,  after  all ! " 

Charmed  to  see  how  she  greeted  me,  I  had 
not  the  heart  to  tell  her  that  her  peril  was  not 
past ;  nor  did  she  give  me  the  opportunity,  for 
went  on  directly : 

"  And  you  are  wounded  ?  But  not  badly, 
not  badly,  Mr.  Aycon  ?  " 

"  Who  told  you  I  was  wounded  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  duke.  He  said  that  you  had  been 
shot  by  a  thief,  and  were  very  badly  hurt ;  and 
— and "  She  stopped,  blushing. 

("  Where  is  he  ?  "  I  remembered  the  words  ; 
my  forecast  of  their  meaning  had  been  true.) 

"  And  did  what  he  told  you,"  I  asked  softly, 
"  make  you  leave  the  convent  and  come  to  find 
me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  taking  courage  and 
meeting  my  eyes.  "And  then  you  were  not 
here,  and  I  thought  it  was  a  trap." 

"  You  were  right ;  it  was  a  trap.  I  came  to 
173 


174    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

find  you  at  the  convent,  but  you  were  gone  : 
only  by  the  chance  of  meeting  with  a  friend 
who  saw  the  duke's  carnage  standing  here 
have  I  found  you." 

"  You  were  seeking  for  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  was  seeking  for  you." 

I  spoke  slowly,  as  though  hours  were  open 
for  our  talk  ;  but  suddenly  I  remembered  that 
at  any  moment  the  old  witch  might  return. 
And  I  had  much  to  say  before  she  came. 

"  Marie "  I  began  eagerly,  never  thinking 

that  the  name  she  had  come  to  bear  in  my 
thoughts  could  be  new  and  strange  from  my 
lips.  But  the  moment  I  had  uttered  it  I  per- 
ceived what  I  had  done,  for  she  drew  back 
further,  gazing  at  me  with  inquiring  eyes,  and 
her  breath  seemed  arrested.  Then,  answering 
the  question  in  her  eyes,  I  said  simply : 

"  For  what  else  am  I  here,  Marie  ?  "  and  I 
caught  her  hand  in  my  left  hand. 

She  stood  motionless,  still  silently  asking  what 
I  would.  And  I  kissed  her  hand.  And  again 
the  low  cry,  lower  still — half  a  cry  and  half  a 
sigh— came  from  her,  and  she  drew  timidly 
nearer  to  me  ;  and  I  drew  her  yet  nearer,  whis- 
pering, in  a  broken  word  or  two,  that  I  loved 
her. 

But  she,  still  dazed,  looked  up  at  me,  whis- 
pering, "  When,  when  ?  " 

And  I  could  not  tell  her  when  I  had  come  to 
love  her,  for  I  did  not  know  then — nor  can  I 
recollect  now  ;  nor  have  I  any  opinion  about 
it,  save  that  it  speaks  ill  for  me  that  it  was  not 
when  first  I  set  my  eyes  upon  her.  But  she 


A   STRANGE  GOOD  HUMOR.  I?5 

doubted,  remembering  that  I  had  seemed  fancy- 
struck  with  the  little  duchess,  and  cold,  maybe 
stern,  to  her ;  and  because,  I  think,  she  knew 
that  I  had  seen  her  tempted.  And  to  silence 
her  doubts,  I  kissed  her  lips.  She  did  not 
return  my  kiss,  but  stood  with  wondering  eyes. 
Then  in  an  instant  a  change  came  over  her 
face.  I  felt  her  press  my  hand,  and  for  an 
instant  or  two  her  lips  moved,  but  I  heard  no 
words,  nor  do  I  think  that  the  unheard  words 
were  for  my  ear ;  and  I  bowed  my  head. 

Yet  time  pressed.  Again  I  collected  my 
thoughts  from  this  sweet  reverie — wherein  what 
gave  me  not  least  joy  was  the  perfect  trust  she 
showed  in  me,  for  that  is  perhaps  the  one  thing 
in  this  world  that  a  man  may  be  proud  to  win — 
and  said  to  her  : 

"  Marie,  you  must  listen.  I  have  something 
to  tell  you." 

"  Oh,  you'll  take  me  away  from  them  ?  "  she 
cried,  clutching  my  hand  in  both  of  hers. 

"  I  can't  now,"  I  answered.  "  You  must  be 
brave.  Listen  :  if  I  try  to  take  you  away  now, 
it  may  be  that  I  should  be  killed  and  you  left 
defenseless.  But  this  evening  you  can  be  safe, 
whatever  befalls  me." 

"  Why,  what  should  befall  you  ?  "  she  asked, 
with  a  swift  movement  that  brought  her  closer 
to  me. 

I  had  to  tell  her  the  truth,  or  my  plan  for  her 
salvation  would  not  be  carried  out. 

"  To-night  I  fight  the  duke.  Hush  !  hush  ! 
Yes,  I  must  fight  with  the  duke — yes,  wounded 
arm,  my  darling,  notwithstanding.  We  shall 


176    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

leave  here  about  five  and  go  down  to  the  bay 
toward  the  Mount,  and  there  on  the  sands  we 
shall  fight.  And — listen  now — you  must  follow 
us,  about  half  an  hour  after  we  have  gone." 

"  But  they  will  not  let  me  go." 

"  Go  you  must.  Marie,  here  is  a  pistol.  Take 
it ;  and  if  anyone  stops  you,  use  it.  But  I  think 
none  will ;  for  the  duke  will  be  with  me,  and  I 
do  not  think  Bontet  will  interfere." 

"  But  my  mother  ?  " 

"  You  are  as  strong  as  she." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I'll  come.  You'll  be  on  the  sands ; 
I'll  come  !  "  The  help  she  had  found  in  me 
made  her  brave  now. 

"  You  will  get  there  as  we  are  fighting  or  soon 
after.  Do  not  look  for  me  or  for  the  duke,  but 
look  for  two  gentlemen  whom  you  do  not  know, 
they  will  be  there — French  officers — and  to  their 
honor  you  must  trust." 

"  But  why  not  to  you  ?  " 

"  If  I  am  alive  and  well,  I  shall  not  fail  you  ; 
but  if  I  come  not,  go  to  them  and  demand  their 
protection  from  the  duke,  telling  them  how  he 
has  snared  you  here.  And  they  will  not  suffer 
him  to  carry  you  off  against  your  will.  Do  you 
see  ?  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  see.     But  must  you  fight  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  must  fight.  The  duke  will  not 
trouble  you  again,  I  think,  before  the  evening ; 
and  if  you  remember  what  I  have  told  you,  all 
will  be  well." 

So  I  tried  to  comfort  her,  believing  as  I  did 
that  no  two  French  gentlemen  would  desire  or 
dare  to  refuse  her  their  protection  against  the 


A    STXANGE  GOOD  HUMOR.  177 

duke.  But  she  was  clinging  to  me  now,  in 
great  distress  that  I  must  fight — and  indeed  I 
had  rather  have  fought  at  another  time  myself 
— and  in  fresh  terror  of  her  mother's  anger,  see- 
ing that  I  should  not  be  there  to  bear  it  for  her. 

"  For,"  she  said,  "  we  have  had  a  terrible 
quarrel  just  before  you  came.  I  told  her  that 
unless  I  saw  you  within  an  hour  nothing  but 
force  should  keep  me  here,  and  that  if  they 
kept  me  here  by  force,  I  would  find  means  to 
kill  myself ;  and  that  I  would  not  see  nor  speak 
to  the  duke  unless  he  brought  me  to  you,  ac- 
cording to  his  promise  ;  and  that  if  he  sent  his 
necklace  again — for  he  sent  it  here  half  an  hour 
ago — I  would  not  send  it  back  as  I  did  then, 
but  would  fling  it  out  of  the  window  yonder 
into  the  cattle  pond,  where  he  could  go  and 
fetch  it  out  himself." 

And  my  dearest  Marie,  finding  increased 
courage  from  reciting  her  courageous  speech, 
and  from  my  friendly  hearing  of  it,  raised  her 
voice,  and  her  eyes  flashed,  so  that  she  looked 
yet  more  beautiful ;  and  again  did  I  forget  in- 
exorable time.  But  it  struck  me  that  there  was 
small  wonder  that  Mme.  Delhasse's  temper  had 
not  been  of  the  best  nor  calculated  to  endure 
patiently  such  a  vexatious  encounter  as  befell 
her  when  she  ran  against  me  on  the  landing 
outside  her  door. 

Yet  Marie's  courage  failed  again  ;  and  I  told 
her  that  before  we  fought  I  would  tell  my  second 
of  her  state,  so  that  if  she  came  not  and  I  were 
wounded  (of  worse  I  did  not  speak),  he  would 
come  to  the  inn  and  bring  her  to  me.  And 


I?8    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

this  comforted  her  more,  so  that  she  grew 
calmer,  and,  passing  from  our  present  difficul- 
ties, she  gave  herself  to  persuading  me  (nor 
would  the  poor  girl  believe  that  I  needed  no 
persuading)  that  in  no  case  would  she  have 
yielded  to  the  duke,  and  that  her  mother  had 
left  her  in  wrath  born  of  an  utter  despair  that 
Marie's  will  in  the  matter  could  ever  be  broken 
down. 

"  For  I  told  her,"  Marie  repeated,  "  that  I 
would  sooner  die  ! " 

She  paused,  and  raising  her  eyes  to  mine, 
said  to  me  (and  here  I  think  courage  was  not 
lacking  in  her)  : 

"  Yes,  although  once  I  had  hesitated,  now 
I  had  rather  die.  For  when  I  hesitated,  God 
sent  you  to  my  door,  that  in  love  I  might  find 
salvation." 

Well,  I  do  not  know  that  a  man  does  well 
to  describe  all  that  passes  at  times  like  this. 
There  are  things  rather  meet  to  be  left  dwelling 
in  his  own  heart,  sweetening  all  his  life,  and 
causing  him  to  marvel  that  sinners  have  such 
joys  conceded  to  them  this  side  of  Heaven  ;  so 
that  in  their  recollection  he  may  find,  mingling 
with  his  delight,  an  occasion  for  humility  such  as 
it  little  harms  any  of  us  to  light  on  now  and  then. 

Enough  then — for  the  telling  of  it ;  but 
enough  in  the  passing  of  it  there  was  not  nor 
could  be.  Yet  at  last,  because  needs  must 
when  the  devil— or  a  son — aye,  or  an  elderly 
daughter  of  his— drives,  I  found  myself  outside 
the  door  of  Mme.  Delhasse's  room.  With  the 
turning  of  the  lock  Marie  whispered  a  last  word 


A    STRANGE  GOOD  HUMOR.  179 

to  me,  and  full  of  hope  I  turned  to  descend  the 
stairs.  For  I  had  upon  me  the  feeling  which, 
oftener  perhaps  than  we  think,  gave  to  the 
righteous  cause  a  victory  against  odds  when 
ordeal  of  battle  held  sway.  Now,  such  a  feeling 
is,  I  take  it,  of  small  use  in  a  court  of  law. 

But  Fortune  lost  no  time  in  checking  my  pre- 
sumption by  an  accident  which  at  first  gave  me 
great  concern.  For,  even  as  I  turned  away  from 
the  door  of  the  room,  there  was  Mme.  Del- 
hasse  coming  up  the  stairs.  I  was  fairly 
caught,  there  was  no  doubt  about  it ;  and  for 
Marie's  sake  I  was  deeply  grieved,  for  I  feared 
that  my  discovery  would  mean  another  stormy 
scene  for  her.  Nevertheless,  to  make  the  best 
of  it,  I  assumed  a  jaunty  air  as  I  said  to 
Mme.  Delhasse  : 

"  The  duke  will  be  witness  that  you  were  not 
in  your  room,  madame.  You  will  not  be  com- 
promised." 

I  fully  expected  that  an  outburst  of  anger 
would  follow  on  this  pleasantry  of  mine — which 
was,  I  confess,  rather  in  the  taste  best  suited  to 
Mme.  Delhasse  than  in  the  best  as  judged 
by  an  abstract  standard — but  to  my  surprise 
the  old  creature  did  nothing  worse  than  bestow 
on  me  a  sour  grin.  Apparently,  if  I  were  well- 
pleased  with  the  last  half-hour,  she  had  found 
time  pass  no  less  pleasantly.  All  traces  of  her 
exasperation  and  ill  humor  had  gone,  and  she 
looked  as  pleased  and  contented  as  though  she 
had  been  an  exemplary  mother,  rewarded  (as 
such  deserve  to  be)  by  complete  love  and  peace 
in  her  family  circle. 


l8b   THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"You've  been  slinking  in  behind  my  back, 
have  you  ?  "  she  asked,  but  still  with  a  grin. 

"  It  would  have  been  rude  to  force  an  en- 
trance to  your  face/'  I  observed. 

"  And  I  suppose  you've  been  making  love  to 
the  girl?" 

"  At  the  proper  time,  madame,"  said  I,  with 
much  courtesy, "  I  shall  no  doubt  ask  you  for 
an  interview  with  regard  to  that  matter.  I 
shall  omit  no  respect  that  you  deserve." 

As  I  spoke,  I  stood  on  one  side  to  let  her  pass. 
I  cannot  make  up  my  mind  whether  her  recent 
fury  or  her  present  good  humor  repelled  me 
more. 

"  You'd  have  a  fine  fool  for  a  wife,"  said  she, 
with  a  jerk  of  her  thumb  toward  the  room 
where  the  daughter  was. 

"  I  should  be  compensated  by  a  very  clever 
mother-in-law,"  said  I. 

The  old  woman  paused  for  an  instant  at  the 
top  of  the  stairs,  and  looked  me  up  and  down. 

"  Aye,"  said  she,  "  you  men  think  yourselves 
mighty  clever,  but  a  woman  gets  the  better  of 
you  all  now  and  then." 

I  was  utterly  puzzled  by  her  evident  exulta- 
tion. The  duke  could  not  have  consented  to 
accept  her  society  in  place  of  her  daughter's  ; 
but  I  risked  the  impropriety  and  .hazarded 
the  suggestion  to  Mme.  Delhasse.  Her  face 
curled  in  cunning  wrinkles.  She  seemed  to  be 
about  to  speak,  but  then  she  shut  her  lips  with 
a  snap,  and  suspicion  betrayed  itself  again  in 
her  eyes.  She  had  a  secret—a  fresh  secret— I 
could  have  sworn,  and  in  her  triumph  she  had 


A    STRANGE  GOOD  HUMOR.  l8l 

come  near  to  saying  something  that  might  have 
cast  light  on  it. 

"  By  the  way,"  I  said,  "  your  daughter  did 
not  expect  my  coming."  It  was  perhaps  a  vain 
hope,  but  I  thought  that  I  might  save  Marie 
from  a  tirade. 

The  old  woman  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and 
observed  carelessly  : 

"  The  fool  may  do  what  she  likes ;  "  and  with 
this  she  knocked  at  the  door. 

I  did  not  wait  to  see  it  opened — to  confess 
the  truth,  I  felt  not  sure  of  my  temper  were  I 
forced  to  see  her  and  Marie  together — but  went 
downstairs  and  into  my  own  room.  There  I  sat 
down  in  a  chair  by  the  window  close  to  a  small 
table,  for  I  meant  to  write  a  letter  or  two  to 
friends  at  home,  in  case  the  duke's  left  hand 
should  prove  more  skillful  than  mine  when  we 
met  that  evening.  But,  finding  that  I  could 
hardly  write  with  my  right  hand  and  couldn't 
write  at  all  with  the  other,  .1  contented  myself 
with  scrawling  laboriously  a  short  note  to  Gus- 
tave  de  Berensac,  which  I  put  in  my  pocket, 
having  indorsed  on  it  a  direction  for  its  delivery 
in  case  I  should  meet  with  an  accident.  Then 
I  lay  back  in  my  chair,  regretting,  I  recollect, 
that,  as  my  luggage  was  left  at  Avranches,  I 
had  not  a  clean  shirt  to  fight  in ;  and  then,  be- 
coming drowsy,  I  began  to  stare  idly  along  the 
road  in  front  of  the  wrindow,  rehearsing  the 
events  of  the  last  few  days  in  my  mind,  but 
coming  back  to  Marie  Delhasse. 

So  an  hour  passed  away.  Then  I  rose  and 
stretched  myself,  and  gave  a  glance  out  of  the 


182    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

window  to  see  if  we  were  likely  to  have  a  fine 
evening  for  our  sport,  for  clouds  had  been 
gathering  up  all  day.  And  when  I  had  made 
up  my  mind  that  the  rain  would  hold  off  long 
enough  for  our  purpose,  I  looked  down  at  the 
road  again,  and  there  I  saw  two  figures  which 
I  knew.  From  the  direction  of  Pontorson  came 
Jacques  Bontet  the  inn-keeper,  slouching  along 
and  smoking  a  thin  black  cigar. 

"  Ah !  he  has  been  to  deliver  the  note  to  our 
friends  the  officers,"  said  I  to  myself. 

And  then  I  looked  at  the  other  familiar  figure, 
which  was  that  of  Mme.  Delhasse.  She  wore 
the  bonnet  and  cloak  which  had  been  lying  on 
the  bed  in  her  room  at  the  time  of  my  intrusion. 
She  was  just  leaving  the  premises  of  the  inn 
strolling,  nay  dawdling,  along.  She  met  Bontet 
and  stopped  for  a  moment  in  conversation  with 
him.  Then  she  pursued  her  leisurely  walk  in 
the  direction  of  Pontorson,  and  I  watched  her 
till  she  was  about  three  hundred  yards  off.  But 
her  form  had  no  charms,  and,  growing  tired  of  the 
prospect,  I  turned  away  remarking  to  myself : 

"  I  suppose  the  old  lady  wants  just  a  little 
stroll  before  dinner." 

Nor  did  I  see  any  reason  to  be  dissatisfied 
with  either  of  my  inferences — at  the  moment. 
So  I  disturbed  myself  no  more,  but  rang  the 
bell  and  ordered  some  coffee  and  a  little  glass  of 
the  least  bad  brandy  in  the  inn.  For  it  could 
not  be  long  before  I  was  presented  with  the 
Duke  of  Saint-Maclou's  compliments  and  an 
intimation  that  he  would  be  glad  to  have  my 
company  on  a  walk  in  the  cool  of  the  evening. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Witneeses* 


s  LOWLY  the  afternoon  wore  away. 
My  content  had  given  place  to  urgent 
impatience,  and  I  longed  every  mo- 
ment for  the  summons  to  action. 
None  came  ;  and  a  quarter  to  five  I  went  down- 
stairs, hoping  to  find  some  means  of  whiling 
away  the  interval  of  time.  Pushing  open  the 
door  of  the  little  salle-a-manger,  I  was  pre- 
sented with  a  back  view  of  my  host  M.  Bontet, 
who  was  leaning  out  of  the  window.  Just  as  I 
entered,  he  shouted  "Ready  at  six  !"  Then 
he  turned  swiftly  round,  having,  I  suppose, 
heard  my  entrance  ;  at  the  same  moment,  the 
sound  of  a  door  violently  slammed  struck  on 
my  ear  across  the  yard.  I  moved  quickly  up 
to  the  window.  The  stable  door  was  shut  ; 
and  Bontet  faced  me  with  a  surly  frown  on  his 
brow. 

"  What  is  to  be  ready  at  six  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Some  refreshments  for  Mme.  Delhasse,"  he 
answered  readily. 

"  You  order  refreshments  from  the  stable  ?  " 

"  I  was  shouting  to  the  scullery  :  the  door  is, 
as  you  will  perceive,  sir,  there  to  the  left." 

Now  I  knew  that  this  was  a  lie,  and  I  might 
'83 


1 84    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

very  likely  have  said  as  much,  had  not  the 
Duke  of  Saint-Maclou  at  this  moment  come 
into  the  room.  He  bowed  to  me,  but  addressed 
himself  to  Bontet. 

"  Well,  are  the  gentlemen  to  be  here  at  five  ?" 
he  asked. 

Bontet,  with  an  air  of  relief,  began  an  expla- 
nation. One  of  the  gentlemen — M.  de  Vieuville, 
he  believed — had  read  out  the  note  in  his  pres- 
ence, and  had  desired  him  to  tell  the  duke 
that  he  and  the  other  gentleman  would  meet 
the  duke  and  his  friend  on  the  sands  at  a  quar- 
ter to  six.  They  would  be  where  the  road 
ceased  and  the  sand  began  at  that  hour. 

"  He  seems  to  think,"  Bontet  explained,  "  that 
less  attention  would  thus  be  directed  to  the 
affair." 

The  precaution  seemed  wise  enough  ;  but 
why  had  M.  de  Vieuville  taken  Bontet  so  much 
into  his  confidence  ?  The  same  thought  struck 
the  duke,  for  he  asked  sharply  : 

"  Why  did  he  read  the  note  to  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  he  thought  nothing  of  that,"  said  Bon- 
tet easily.  "  The  gentlemen  at  Pontorson  know 
me  very  well :  several  affairs  have  been  arranged 
from  this  house." 

"  You  ought  to  keep  a  private  cemetery,"  said 
the  duke  with  a  grim  smile. 

"  The  sands  are  there,"  laughed  the  fellow, 
with  a  wave  of  his  hand. 

Nobody  appeared  to  desire  to  continue  this 
cheerful  conversation,  and  silence  fell  upon  us 
for  some  moments.  Then  the  duke  observed  : 

"  Bontet,  I  want  you  for  a  few  minutes.     Mr. 


UNSUMMONED   WITENSSES.  185 

Aycon,  shall  you  be  ready  to  start  in  half  an 
hour  ?  Our  friends  will  probably  bring  pistols  : 
failing  that,  I  can  provide  you,  if  you  have  no 
objection  to  using  mine." 

I  bowed,  and  they  left  me  alone.  And  then, 
having  nothing  better  to  do,  I  lit  a  cigar,  vaulted 
out  of  the  window,  and  strolled  toward  the 
stable.  My  curiosity  about  the  stable  had  been 
growing  rapidly.  I  cast  a  glance  round,  and 
saw  nobody  in  the  yard.  Then,  with  a  careless 
air,  I  turned  the  handle  of  the  door.  Nothing 
occurred.  I  turned  it  more  violently ;  still  noth- 
ing happened.  I  bent  down  suddenly  and 
looked  through  the  keyhole.  And  I  saw — not 
a  key,  but — an  eye  !  And  for  ten  seconds  I 
looked  at  the  eye.  Then  the  eye  disappeared  ; 
and  I  heard  that  little  unmistakable  "  click." 
The  eye  had  a  pistol — and  had  cocked  it ! 
Was  that  because  it  saw  through  the  keyhole 
strange  garments,  instead  of  the  friendly  bright 
blue  of  Bontet's  blouse  ?  And  why  had  the 
eye  such  a  dislike  to  strangers  ?  I  straightened 
myself  again  and  took  a  walk  along  the  length 
of  the  stable,  considering  these  questions  and, 
incidentally,  looking  for  a  window ;  but  the  only 
window  was  a  clear  four  feet  above  my  head. 

I  am  puzzled  even  now  to  say  whether  I 
regret  not  having  listened  to  the  suspicion  that 
was  strong  in  my  breast.  Had  I  forecast,  in 
the  least  degree,  the  result  of  my  neglecting 
to  pay  heed  to  its  warning,  I  should  not  have 
hesitated  for  a  moment.  But  in  the  absence  of 
such  a  presage,  I  felt  rather  indifferent  about 
the  matter.  My  predominant  desire  was  to 


186    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

avoid  the  necessity  of  postponing  the  settle- 
ment of  the  issue  between  the  duke  and  myself; 
and  a  delay  to  that  must  needs  follow,  if  I  took 
action  in  regard  to  the  stable.  Moreover,  why 
should  I  stir  in  the  matter  ?  I  had  a  right  to 
waive  any  grievance  of  my  own  ;  for  the  rest,  it 
seemed  to  me  that  justice  was  not  much  con- 
cerned in  the  matter;  the  merits  or  demerits  of 
the  parties  were,  in  my  view,  pretty  equal ;  and 
I  questioned  the  obligation  to  incur,  not  only  the 
delay  which  I  detested,  but,  in  all  probability,  a 
very  risky  adventure  in  a  cause  which  I  had 
very  little  at  heart. 

If  "  the  eye  "  could,  by  being  "  ready  at  six," 
get  out  of  the  stable  while  the  duke  and  I  were 
engaged  otherwise  and  elsewhere,  why — "  Let 
him,"  said  I,  "  and  go  to  the  devil  his  own  way. 
He's  sure  to  get  there  at  last !  "  So  I  reasoned 
— or  perhaps,  I  should  rather  say,  so  I  felt ; 
and  I  must  repeat  that  I  find  it  difficult  now 
to  be  very  sorry  that  my  mood  was  what  it  was. 

My  half  hour  was  passing.  I  crossed  back 
to  the  window  and  got  in  again.  The  duke, 
whose  impatience  rivaled  my  own,  was  waiting 
for  me.  A  case  of  pistols  lay  on  the  table 
and,  having  held  them  up  for  me  to  see,  he 
slipped  them  inside  his  coat. 

"  Are  you  ready,  sir  ?  "  he  asked.  "  We  may 
as  well  be  starting." 

I  bowed  and  motioned  him  to  precede  me. 
He  also,  in  spite  of  his  impatience,  seemed  to 
me  to  be  in  a  better  humor  than  earlier  in  the 
day.  The  interview  with  Mme.  Delhasse  must 
have  been  satisfactory  to  both  parties.  Had 


UNSUMMONED   WITNESSES.  1 87 

not  his  face  showed  me  the  improvement  in  his 
temper,  his  first  words  after  we  left  the  premises 
of  the  inn  (at  a  quarter  past  five  exactly)  would 
have  declared  it ;  for  he  turned  to  me  and  said : 

"  Look  here,  Mr.  Aycon.  You're  running  a 
great  risk  for  nothing.  Be  a  sensible  man. 
Go  back  to  Avranches,  thence  to  Cherbourg, 
and  thence  to  where  you  live — and  leave  me  to 
settle  my  own  affairs." 

"  Before  I  accept  that  proposal,"  said  I,  "  I 
must  know  what  '  your  own  affairs  '  include." 

"  You're  making  a  fool  of  yourself — or  being 
made  a  fool  of — which  you  please,"  he  assured 
me ;  and  his  face  wore  for  the  moment  an 
almost  friendly  look.  I  saw  clearly  that  he  be- 
lieved he  had  won  the  day.  The  old  lady  had 
managed  to  make  him  think  that — by  what 
artifice  I  knew  not.  But  what  I  did  know  was 
that  I  believed  not  a  jot  of  the  insinuation  he 
was  conveying  to  me,  and  had  not  a  doubt  of 
the  truth,  and  sincerity  of  Marie  Delhasse. 

"  The  best  of  us  do  that  sometimes,"  I  an- 
swered. "  And  when  one  has  begun,  it  is  best 
to  go  through." 

"  As  you  please.  Have  you  ever  practiced 
with  your  left  hand  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  I. 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "  you've  not  long  to  live." 

To  do  him  justice,  he  said  it  in  no  boasting 
way,  but  like  a  man  who  would  warn  me,  and 
earnestly. 

"  I  have  never  practiced  with  my  right  either," 
I  remarked.  "  I  think  I  get  rather  a  pull  by  the 
arrangement." 


1 88    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

He  walked  on  in  silence  for  a  few  yards. 
Then  he  asked : 

"  You're  resolved  on  it  ?  " 

"  Absolutely,"  I  returned.  For  I  understood 
that  he  did  but  offer  the  same  terms  as  before — 
terms  which  included  the  abandonment  of  Marie 
Delhasse. 

On  we  went,  our  faces  set  toward  the  great 
Mount,  and  with  the  sinking  sun  on  our  left 
hands.  We  met  few  people,  and  as  we  reached 
the  sands  yet  fewer.  When  we  came  to  a 
stand,  just  where  the  causeway  now  begins  (it 
was  not  built  then),  nobody  was  in  sight.  The 
duke  took  out  his  watch. 

"  We  are  punctual  to  the  minute,"  said  he. 
"  I  hope  those  fellows  won't  be  very  late,  or  the 
best  of  the  light  will  be  gone." 

There  were  some  large  flat  blocks  of  stone 
lying  by  the  roadside,  and  we  sat  down  on  them 
and  waited.  We  were  both  smoking,  and  we 
found  little  to  say  to  one  another.  For  my 
part,  I  thought  less  of  our  coming  encounter 
than  of  the  success  of  the  scheme  which  I  had 
laid  for  Marie's  safety.  And  I  believe  that  the 
duke,  on  his  part,  gave  equally  small  heed  to 
the  fight ;  for  the  smile  of  triumph  or  satisfac- 
tion flitted  now  and  again  across  his  face,  called 
forth,  I  made  no  doubt,  by  the  pleasant  convic- 
tion which  Mme.  Delhasse  had  instilled  into 
his  mind,  and  which  had  caused  him  to  dub 
me  a  fool  for  risking  my  life  in  the  service  of 
a  woman  who  had  promised  all  he  asked 
of  her. 

But  the  sun  sank  ;  the  best  of  the  light  went ; 


UNSUMMONED   WITNESSES.  189 

and  the  officers  from  Pontorson  did  not  come. 
It  was  hard  on  six. 

"  If  we  fight  to-night,  we  must  fight  now  !  " 
cried  the  duke  suddenly.  "  What  the  plague 
has  become  of  the  fellows?  " 

"  It's  not  too  dark  for  me,"  said  I. 

"  But  it  soon  will  be  for  me,"  he  answered. 
"  Come,  are  we  to  wait  till  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  We'll  wait  till  to-morrow,"  said  I,  "  if  you'll 
promise  not  to  seek  to  see  or  speak  to  Mile.  Del- 
hasse  till  to-morrow.  Otherwise  we'll  fight  to- 
night, seconds  or  no  seconds,  light  or  no  light !  " 

I  never  understood  perfectly  the  temper  of 
the  man,  nor  the  sudden  gusts  of  passion  to 
which,  at  a  word  that  chanced  to  touch  him,  he 
was  subject.  Such  a  storm  caught  him  now, 
and  he  bounded  up  from  where  he  sat,  cursing 
me  for  an  insolent  fellow  who  dared  to  put  him 
under  terms — for  a  fool  who  flattered  himself 
that  all  women  loved  him — and  for  many  other 
things  which  it  is  not  well  to  repeat.  So  that  at 
last  I  said  : 

"  Lead  the  way,  then  :  you  know  the  best 
place,  I  suppose." 

Still  muttering  in  fury,  cursing  now  me,  now 
the  neglectful  seconds,  he  strode  rapidly  on  to 
the  sands  and  led  the  way  at  a  quick  pace, 
walking  nearly  toward  the  setting  sun.  The 
land  trended  the  least  bit  outward  here,  and  the 
direction  kept  us  well  under  the  lee  of  a  rough 
stone  wall  that  fringed  the  sands  on  the  land- 
ward side.  Stunted  bushes  raised  their  heads 
above  the  wall,  and  the  whole  made  a  perfect 
screen.  Thus  we  walked  for  some  ten  minutes 


igo   THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

with  the  sun  in  our  eyes  and  the  murmur  of  the 
sea  in  our  ears.  Then  at  a  spot  where  the 
bushes  rose  highest  the  duke  abruptly  stopped, 
saying,  "  Here,"  and  took  the  case  of  pistols  out 
of  his  pocket.  He  examined  the  loading,  hand- 
ing each  in  turn  to  me.  While  this  was  being 
done  neither  of  us  spoke.  Then  he  held  them 
both  out,  the  stocks  towards  me ;  and  I  took 
the  one  nearest  to  my  hand.  The  duke  laid  the 
other  down  on  the  sands  and  motioned  me  to 
follow  his  example;  and  he  took  his  handker- 
chief out  of  his  pocket  and  wound  'it  round  his 
right  hand,  confining  the  fingers  closely. 

"  Tie  the  knot,  if  you  can,"  said  he,  holding 
out  his  hand  thus  bound. 

"So  far  I  am  willing  to  trust  you,"  said  I; 
but  he  bowed  ironically  as  he  answered : 

"  It  will  be  awkward  enough  anyhow  for  the 
one  of  us  that  chances  to  kill  the  other,  seeing 
that  we  have  no  seconds  or  witnesses;  but  it 
would  look  too  black  against  me,  if  my  right 
hand  were  free  while  yours  is  in  a  sling.  So 
pray,  Mr.  Aycon,  do  not  insist  on  trusting  me 
too  much,  but  tie  the  knot  if  your  wounded  arm 
will  let  you." 

Engrossed  with  my  thoughts  and  my  schemes, 
I  had  not  dwelt  on  the  danger  to  which  he 
called  my  attention,  and  I  admit  that  I  hesitated. 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  be  called  a  murderer,"  said 
I.  "  Shall  we  not  wait  again  for  M.  de  Vieuville 
and  his  friend  ?  " 

"  Curse  them ! "  said  he,  fury  in  his  eye 
again.  "  By  Heavens,  if  I  live,  I'll  have  a  word 
twith  them  for  playing  me  such  a  trick  !  The 


UNSUMMONED   WITNESSES.  iQl 

light  is  all  but  gone  now.  Come,  take  your 
place.  There  is  little  choice." 

"  You  mean  to  fight,  then  ?  " 

"  Not  if  you  will  leave  me  in  peace :  but  if 
not " 

"  Let  us  go  back  to  the  inn  and  fight  to-mor- 
row :  and  meanwhile  things  shall  stand  as  they 
are,"  said  I,  repeating  my  offer,  in  the  hope  that 
he  would  now  be  more  reasonable. 

He  looked  at  me  sullenly ;  then  his  rage  came 
again  upon  him,  and  he  cried  : 

"  Take  your  place  :  stand  where  you  like,  and, 
in  God's  name,  be  quick ! "  And  he  paused,  and 

then  added  :  "  I  cannot  live  another  night; ' 

And  he  broke  off  again,  and  finished  by  cry- 
ing :  "  Quick  !  Are  you  ready  ?  " 

Seeing  there  was  no  help  for  it,  I  took  up  a 
position.  No  more  words  passed  between  us, 
but  with  a  gesture  he  signed  to  me  to  move  a 
little :  and  thus  he  adjusted  our  places  till  we 
were  opposite  one  another,  about  two  yards 
between  us,  and  each  presenting  his  side  direct 
to  the  sun,  so  that  its  slanting  rays  troubled  each 
of  us  equally,  and  that  but  little.  Then  he  said  : 

"  I  will  step  back  five  paces,  and  do  you  do  the 
like.  When  we  are  at  the  distance,  do  you  count 
slowly,  '  One — two — three,'  and  at '  Three  '  we 
will  fire." 

I  did  not  like  having  to  count,  but  it  was 
necessary  that  one  of  us  should  ;  and  he,  when 
I  pressed  him,  would  not,  Therefore  it  was 
arranged  as  he  said.  And  I  began  to  step 
back,  but  for  an  instant  he  stayed  me.  He  was 
calm  now,  and  he  spoke  in  quiet  tones. 


1Q2    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DtfCHESS. 

"  Even  now,  if  you  will  go  !  "  said  he.  "  For 
the  girl  is  mine  ;  and  I  think  that,  and  not  my 
life  or  death,  is  what  you  care  about." 

"  The  girl  is  not  yours  and  never  will  be," 
said  I.  But  then  I  remembered  that,  the  sec- 
onds not  having  come,  my  scheme  had  gone 
astray,  and  that  if  he  lived  in  strength,  Marie 
would  be  well-nigh  at  his  mercy.  And  on  that 
I  grew  stern,  and  the  desire  for  his  blood  came 
on  me ;  and  he,  I  think,  saw  it  in  my  face,  for 
he  smiled,  and  without  more  turned  and  walked 
to  his  place.  And  I  did  the  like  ;  and  we  turned 
round  again  and  stood  facing  one  another. 

All  this  time  my  pistol  had  hung  in  the 
fingers  of  my  right  hand.  I  took  it  now  in  my 
left,  and  looked  to  it,  and  cried  to  the  duke  : 

"  Are  you  ready  ?  " 

And  he  answered  easily  : 

"Yes,  I'm  ready." 

Then  I  raised  my  arm  and  took  my  aim, — and 
if  the  aim  were  not  true  on  his  heart,  my  hand 
and  not  my  will  deserves  the  praise  of  Mercy, 
—and  I  cried  aloud  : 

"  One !  "  and  paused  ;  and  cried  "  Two  !  " 

And  as  the  word  left  my  lips — before  the  final 
fatal  "  Three  ! "  was  so  much  as  ready  to  my 
tongue — while  I  yet  looked  at  the  duke  to  see 
that  I  was  not  taking  him  unawares — loud  and 
sharp  two  shots  rang  out  at  the  same  instant 
in  the  still  air  :  I  felt  the  whizz  of  a  bullet,  as  it 
shaved  my  ear  ;  and  the  duke,  without  a  sound, 
fell  forward  on  the  sands,  his  pistol  exploding 
as  he  fell. 

After  all  we  had  our  witnesses  ! 


CHAPTER  XX. 
Dufce's  Bpttapb* 

jOR  a  moment  I  stood  in  amazement, 
gazing  at  my  opponent  where  he  lay 
prostrate  on  the  sands.  Then,  guided 
by  the  smoke  which  issued  from  the 
bushes,  I  darted  across  to  the  low  stone  wall 
and  vaulted  on  to  the  top  of  it.  I  dived  into 
the  bushes,  parting  them  with  head  and  hand  : 
I  was  conscious  of  a  man's  form  rushing  by  me, 
but  I  could  pay  no  heed  to  him,  for  right  in 
front  of  me,  in  the  act  of  re-loading  his  pistol, 
I  saw  the  burly  inn-keeper  Jacques  Bontet. 
When  his  eyes  fell  on  me,  as  I  leaped  out  almost 
at  his  very  feet,  he  swore  an  oath  and  turned  to 
run.  I  raised  my  hand  and  fired.  Alas !  the 
Duke  of  Saint-Maclou  had  been  justified  in  his 
confidence;  for,  to  speak  honestly,  I  do  not 
believe  my  bullet  went  within  a  yard  of  the 
fugitive.  Hearing  the  shot  and  knowing  him- 
self unhurt,  he  halted  and  faced  me.  There 
was  no  time  for  re-loading.  I  took  my  pistol 
by  the  muzzle  and  ran  at  him.  My  right  arm 
was  nearly  useless ;  but  I  took  it  out  of  the 
sling  and  had  it  ready,  for  what  it  was  worth. 
I  saw  that  the  fellow's  face  was  pale  and  that 
he  displayed  no  pleasure  in  the  game.  But  he 


194    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

stood  his  ground  ;  and  I,  made  wary  by  the 
recollection  of  my  maimed  state,  would  not  rush 
on  him,  but  came  to  a  stand  about  a  yard  from 
him,  reconnoitering  how  I  might  best  spring 
on  him.  Thus  we  rested  for  a  moment  till  re- 
membering that  the  duke,  if  he  were  not  already 
dead,  lay  at  the  mercy  of  the  other  scoundrel, 
I  gathered  myself  together  and  threw  myself 
at  Jacques  Bontet.  He  also  had  clubbed  his 
weapon,  and  he  struck  wildly  at  me  as  I  came 
on.  My  head  he  missed,  and  the  blow  fell  on 
my  right  shoulder,  settling  once  for  all  the 
question  whether  my  right  arm  was  to  be  of 
any  use  or  not.  Yet  its  uselessness  mattered 
not,  for  I  countered  his  blow  with  a  better,  and 
the  butt  of  my  pistol  fell  full  and  square  on  his 
forehead.  For  a  moment  he  stood  looking  at 
me,  with  hatred  and  fear  in  his  eyes :  then,  as 
it  seemed  to  me,  quite  slowly  his  knees  gave 
way  under  him  ;  his  face  dropped  down  from 
mine;  he  might  have  been  sinking  into  the 
ground,  till  at  last,  his  knees  being  bent  right 
under  him,  uttering  a  low  groan,  he  toppled 
over  and  lay  on  the  ground. 

Spending  on  him  and  his  state  no  more 
thought  that  they  deserved,  I  snatched  his 
pistol  from  him  (for  mine  was  broken  at  the 
junction  of  barrel  and  stock),  and,  without 
waiting  to  load  (and  indeed  with  one  hand 
helpless  and  in  the  agitation  which  I  was  suf- 
fering it  would  have  taken  me  more  than  a 
moment),  I  hastened  back  to  the  wall,  and, 
parting  the  bushes,  looked  over.  It  was  a 
strange  sight  that  I  saw.  The  duke  was  no 


THE  DUKE'S  EPITAPH.  195 

longer  prone  on  his  face,  as  he  had  fallen,  but 
lay  on  his  back,  with  his  arms  stretched  out, 
crosswise ;  and  by  his  side  knelt  a  small  spare 
man,  who  searched,  hunted,  and  rummaged 
with  hasty,  yet  cool  and  methodical,  touch, 
every  inch  of  his  clothing.  Up  and  down, 
across  and  across,  into  every  pocket,  along 
every  lining,  aye,  down  to  the  boots,  ran  the 
nimble  fingers ;  and  in  the  still  of  the  evening, 
which  seemed  not  broken  but  rather  emphasized 
by  the  rumble  of  the  tide  that  had  begun  to 
come  in  over  the  sands  from  the  Mount,  his 
passionate  curses  struck  my  ears.  I  recollect 
that  I  smiled — nay,  I  believe  that  I  laughed — 
for  the  man  was  my  old  acquaintance  Pierre — 
and  Pierre  was  still  on  the  track  of  the  Cardinal's 
Necklace ;  and  he  had  not  doubted,  any  more 
than  I  had  doubted,  that  the  duke  carried  it 
upon  his  person.  Yet  Pierre  found  it  not,  for 
he  was  growing  angry  now;  he  seemed  to 
worry  the  still  body,  pushing  it  and  tossing  the 
arms-of  it  to  and  fro  as  a  puppy  tosses  a  slipper 
or  a  cushion.  And  all  the  while  the  uncon- 
scious face  of  the  Duke  of  Saint-Maclou  was 
turned  up  to  heaven,  and  a  stiff  smile  seemed 
to  mock  the  baffled  plunderer.  And  I  also 
wondered  where  the  necklace  was. 

Then  I  let  myself  down  on  to  the  noiseless 
sands  and  stole  across  to  the  spot  where  the 
pair  were.  Pierre's  hands  were  searching  des- 
perately and  wildly  now  ;  he  no  longer  expected 
to  find,  but  he  could  not  yet  believe  that  the 
search  was  in  very  truth  in  vain.  Absorbed  in 
his  task,  he  heard  me  not ;  and  coming  up  I 


196    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

set  my  foot  on  the  pistol  that  lay  by  him,  and 
caught  him,  as  the  duke  had  caught  Lafleur  his 
comrade,  by  the  nape  of  the  neck,  and  said  to 
him,  in  a  bantering  tone  : 

"  Well,  is  it  not  there,  my  friend  ?  " 
He  wriggled ;  but  the  strength  of  the  little 
man  in  a  struggle  at  close  quarters  was  as 
nothing,  and  I  held  him  easily  with  my  one 
sound  hand.  And  I  mocked  him,  exhorting 
him  to  look  again,  telling  him  that  everything 
was  not  to  be  seen  from  a  stable,  and  bidding 
him  call  Lafleur  from  hell  to  help  him.  And 
under  my  grip  he  grew  quiet  and  ceased  to 
search ;  and  I  heard  nothing  but  his  quick 
breathing.  And  I  laughed  at  him  as  I  plucked 
him  off  the  duke  and  flung  him  on  his  back  on 
the  sands,  and  stood  looking  down  on  him. 
But  he  asked  no  mercy  of  me  ;  his  small  eyes 
answered  defiance  back  to  me,  and  he  glanced 
still  wistfully  at  the  quiet  man  beside  us. 

Yet  he  was  to  escape  me — with  small  pain  to 
me,  I  confess.  For  at  the  moment  a  cry  rang 
loud  in  my  ear:  I  knew  the  voice;  and  though 
I  kept  my  foot  on  Pierre's  pistol,  yet  I  turned 
my  head.  And  on  the  instant  the  fellow  sprang 
to  his  feet,  and,  with  an  agility  that  I  could  not 
have  matched,  started  running  across  the  sands 
toward  the  Mount.  Before  I  had  realized  what 
he  was  about,  he  had  thirty  yards'  start  of  me. 
I  heard  the  water  rushing  in  now;  he  must 
wade  deep,  nay,  he  must  swim  to  win  the 
Mount.  But  from  me  he  was  safe,  for  I  was  no 
such  runner  as  he.  Yet,  had  he  and  I  been 
ei  I  would  have  pursued  him.  But  the  cry 


THE  DUKE'S  EPITAPH.  IQ7 

rang  out  again,  and,  giving  no  more  thought  to 
him,  I  turned  whither  Marie  Delhasse,  come  in 
pursuance  of  my  directions,  stood  with  a  hand 
pointed  in  questioning  at  the  duke,  and  the 
pistol  that  I  had  given  her  fallen  from  her  fin- 
gers on  the  sand.  And  she  swayed  to  and 
fro,  till  I  set  my  arm  round  her  and  steadied 
her. 

"  Have  you  killed  him  ?  "  she  asked  in  a 
frightened  whisper. 

"  I  did  not  so  much  as  fire  at  him,"  I  an- 
swered. "  We  were  attacked  by  thieves." 

"  By  thieves  ?  " 

"  The  inn-keeper  and  another.  They  thought 
that  he  carried  the  necklace,  and  tracked  us 
here." 

"  And  did  they  take  it  ?  " 

"  It  was  not  on  him,"  I  answered,  looking  into 
her  eyes. 

She  raised  them  to  mine  and  said  simply  : 

"  I  have  it  not ;  "  and  with  that,  asking  no 
more,  she  drew  near  to  the  duke,  and  sat  down 
by  him  on  the  sand,  and  lifted  his  head  on  to 
her  lap,  and  wiped  his  brow  with  her  handker- 
chief, saying  in  a  low  voice,  "  Is  he  dead  ?  " 

Now,  whether  it  be,  as  some  say,  that  the 
voice  a  man  loves  will  rouse  him  when  none 
else  will,  or  that  the  duke's  swoon  had  merely 
come  to  its  natural  end,  I  know  not ;  but,  as  she 
spoke,  he,  who  had  slept  through  Pierre's  rough 
handling,  opened  his  eyes,  and,  seeing  where 
he  was,  tried  to  raise  his  hand,  groping  after 
hers  :  and  he  spoke,  with  difficulty  indeed,  yet 
plainly  enough,  saying : 


198    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  The  rascals  thought  I  had  the  necklace. 
They  did  not  know  how  kind  you  had  been,  my 
darling." 

I  started  where  I  stood.  Marie  grew  red  and 
then  white,  and  looked  down  at  him  no  longer 
with  pity,  but  with  scorn  and  anger  on  her 
face. 

"I  have  it  not,"  she  said  again.  "For  all 
heaven,  I  would  not  touch  it !  " 

And  she  looked  up  to  me  as  she  said  it,  pray- 
ing me  with  her  eyes  to  believe. 

But  her  words  roused  and  stung  the  duke  to  an 
effort  and  an  activity  that  I  thought  impossible 
to  him  ;  for  he  rolled  himself  from  her  lap,  and, 
raising  himself  on  his  hand,  with  half  his  body 
lifted  from  the  ground,  said  in  a  loud  voice : 

"You  have  it  not?  You  haven't  the  neck- 
lace? Why,  your  message  told  me  that  you 
would  never  part  from  it  again  ?  " 

"  I  sent  no  message,"  she  answered  in  a  hard 
voice,  devoid  of  pity  for  him  ;  how  should  she 
pity  him  ?  "  I  sent  no  message,  save  that  I 
would  sooner  die  than  see  you  again." 

Amazement  spread  over  his  face  even  in  the 
hour'of  his  agony. 

"  You  sent,"  said  he,  "  to  say  that  you  would 
await  me  to-night,  and  to  ask  for  the  necklace 
to  adorn  yourself  for  my  coming." 

Though  he  was  dying,  I  could  hardly  control 
myself  to  hear  him  speak  such  words.  But 
Marie,  in  the  same  calm  scornful  voice  asked : 

"  By  whom  did  the  message  come  ?  " 

"By  your  mother,"  said  he,  gazing  at  her 
eagerly.  "  And  I  sent  mine — the  one  I  told 


THE  DUKE'S  EPITAPH.  199 

you— by  her.  Marie,  was  it  not  true  ?  "  he 
cried,  dragging  himself  nearer  to  her. 

"  True  !  "  she  echoed — and  no  more. 

But  it  was  enough.  For  an  instant  he  glared 
at  her ;  then  he  cried  : 

"That  old  fiend  has  played  a  trick  on  me! 
She  has  got  the  necklace  !  " 

And  I  began  to  understand  the  smile  that  I 
had  seen  on  Mme.  Delhasse's  face,  and  her 
marvelous  good  humor ;  and  I  began  to  have 
my  opinion  concerning  her  evening  stroll  to 
Pontorson.  Bontet  and  Pierre  had  been 
matched  against  more  than  they  thought. 

The  duke,  painfully  supported  on  his  hand, 
drew  nearer  still  to  Marie  ;  but  she  rose  to  her 
feet  and  retreated  a  pace  as  he  advanced.  And 
he  said  : 

"  But  you  love  me,  Marie  ?  You  would 
have " 

She  interrupted  him. 

"  Above  all  men  I  loathe  you  !  "  she  said,  look- 
ing on  him  with  shrinking  and  horror  in  her 
face. 

His  wound  was  heavy  on  him — he  was  shot 
in  the  stomach  and  was  bleeding  inwardly — 
and  had  drawn  his  features  ;  his  pain  brought 
a  sweat  on  his  brow,  and  his  arm,  trembling, 
scarce  held  him.  Yet  none  of  these  things 
made  the  anguish  in  his  eyes  as  he  looked  at 
her. 

"  This  is  the  man  I  love,"  said  she  in  calm 
relentlessness. 

And  she  put  out  her  hand  and  took  mine,  and 
drew  me  to  her,  passing  her  arm  through  mine. 


200    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

The  Duke  of  Saint-Maclou  looked  up  at  us  ; 
then  he  dropped  his  head,  heavily  and  with  a 
thud  on  the  sand,  and  so  lay  till  we  thought  he 
was  dead. 

Yet  it  might  be  that  his  life  could  be  saved, 
and  I  said  to  Marie  : 

"  Stay  by  him,  while  I  run  for  help." 

"  I  will  not  stay  by  him,"  she  said. 

"  Then  do  you  go,"  said  I.  "  Stop  the  first 
people  you  meet ;  or,  if  you  see  none,  go  to  the 
inn.  And  bid  them  bring  help  to  carry  a 
wounded  man  and  procure  a  doctor." 

She  nodded  her  head,  and,  without  a  glance 
at  him,  started  running  along  the  sands  toward 
the  road.  And  I,  left  alone  with  him,  sat  down 
and  raised  him,  as  well  as  I  could,  turning  his 
face  upward  again  and  resting  it  on  my  thigh. 
And  I  wiped  his  brow.  And,  after  a  time,  he 
opened  his  eyes. 

"  Help  will  be  here  soon,"  I  said.  "  She  has 
gone  to  bring  help." 

Full  ten  minutes  passed  slowly;  he  lay 
breathing  with  difficulty,  and  from  time  to  time 
I  wiped  his  brow.  At  last  he  spoke. 

"  There's  some  brandy  in  my  pocket.  Give 
it  me,"  he  said. 

I  found  the  flask  and  gave  him  some  of  its 
contents,  which  kept  the  life  in  him  for  a  little 
longer.  And  I  was  glad  to  feel  that  he  settled 
himself,  as  though  more  comfortably,  against 
me. 

"  What  happened  ?  "  he  asked  very  faintly. 

And  I  told  him  what  had  happened,  as  I  con- 
ceived it — how  that  Bontet  must  have  given 


THE  DUKE^S  EPITAPH.  2OI 

shelter  to  Pierre,  till  such  time  as  escape  might 
be  possible  ;  but  how  that,  when  Bontet  dis- 
covered that  the  necklace  was  in  the  inn,  the 
two  scoundrels,  thinking  that  they  might  as 
well  be  hanged  for  a  sheep  as  for  a  lamb,  had 
determined  to  make  another  attempt  to  secure 
the  coveted  spoil ;  how,  in  pursuance  of  this 
scheme,  Bontet  had,  as  I  believed,  suppressed 
the  duke's  message  to  his  friends  at  Pontorson, 
with  the  intent  to  attack  us,  as  they  had  done,  on 
the  sands ;  and  I  added  that  he  himself  knew, 
better  than  I,  what  was  likely  to  have  become 
of  the  necklace  in  the  hands  of  Mme.  Delhasse. 

"  For  my  part,"  I  concluded,  "  I  doubt  if 
Madame  will  be  at  the  inn  to  welcome  us  on 
our  return." 

"She  came  to  me  and  told  me  that  Marie 
would  give  all  I  asked,  and  I  gave  her  the  neck- 
lace to  give  to  Marie ;  and  believing  what  she 
told  me,  I  was  anxious  not  to  fight  you,  for 
I  thought  you  had  nothing  to  gain  by  fight- 
ing. Yet  you  angered  me,  so  I  resolved  to 
fight." 

He  seemed  to  have  strength  for  nothing  more  ; 
yet  at  the  end,  before  life  left  him,  one  strange 
last  change  came  over  him.  Both  his  rough 
passion  and  the  terrible  abasement  of  defeat 
seemed  to  leave  him,  and  his  face  became  again 
the  face  of  a  well-bred,  self-controlled  man. 
There  was  a  helpless  effort  at  a  shrug  of  his 
shoulders,  a  scornful  slight  smile  on  his  lips, 
and  a  look  of  recognition,  almost  of  friendliness, 
almost  of  humor,  in  his  eyes,  as  he  said  to  me, 
who  still  held  his  head  : 


202    THE  INDISCRETION  OF   THE  DUCHESS. 

"  Mon  Dzeu,  but  I've  made  a  mess  of  it,  Mr. 
Aycon !  " 

And  I  do  not  know  that  anyone  could  better 
this  epitaph  which  the  Duke  of  Saint-Maclou 
composed  for  himself  in  the  last  words  he  spoke 
this  side  the  grave. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
B  Ipa0sin0  Carriage* 

1HEN  I  saw  that  the  Duke  of  Saint- 
Maclou  was  dead,  I  laid  him  down  on 
the  sands,  straightening  him  into  a 
seemly  posture  ;  and  I  closed  his  eyes 
and  spread  his  handkerchief  over  his  face. 
Then  I  began  to  walk  up  and  down  with  folded 
arms,  pondering  over  the  life  and  fate  of  the 
man  and  the  strange  link  between  us  which  the 
influence  of  two  women  had  forged.  And  I 
recognized  also  that  an  hour  ago  the  greater 
likelihood  had  been  that  I  should  be  where  he 
lay,  and  he  be  looking  down  on  me.  Dis  aliter 
visum.  His  own  sin  had  stretched  him  there, 
and  I  lived  to  muse  on  the  wreck — on  the 
"  mess  "  as  he  said  in  self-mockery — that  he 
had  made  of  his  life.  Yet,  as  I  had  felt  when  I 
talked  to  him  before,  so  I  felt  now,  that  his  had 
been  the  hand  to  open  my  eyes,  and  from  his 
mighty  but  base  love  I  had  learned  a  love  as 
strong  and,  as  I  could  in  all  honesty  say,  more 
pure. 

The  sun  was  quite  gone  now,  the  roll  of  the 
tide  was  nearer,  and  water  gleamed  between  us 
and  the  Mount.  But  we  were  beyond  its  utmost 
rise,  save  at  a  spring  tide,  and  I  waited  long, 


204    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

too  engrossed  in  my  thoughts  to  be  impatient 
for  Marie's  return.  I  did  not  even  cross  the 
wall  to  see  how  Bontet  fared  under  the  blow  I 
had  given  him— whether  he  were  dead,  or  lay 
still  stunned,  or  had  found  life  enough  to  crawl 
away.  In  truth,  I  cared  not  then. 

Presently  across  the  sands,  through  the  grow- 
ing gloom,  I  saw  a  group  approaching  me. 
Marie  I  knew  by  her  figure  and  gait  and  saw 
more  plainly,  for  she  walked  a  little  in  front  as 
though  she  were  setting  the  example  of  haste. 
The  rest  followed  together ;  and,  looking  past 
them,  I  could  just  discern  a  carriage  which  had 
been  driven  some  way  on  to  the  sands.  One  of 
the  strangers  wore  top-boots  and  the  livery  of  a 
servant.  As  they  approached,  he  fell  back,  and 
the  remaining  two — a  man  and  a  woman  on 
his  arm— came  more  clearly  into  view.  Marie 
reached  me  some  twenty  yards  ahead  of  them. 

"  I  met  no  one  till  I  was  at  the  inn,"  she  said, 
"  and  then  this  carriage  was  driving  by  ;  and  I 
told  them  that  a  gentleman  lay  hurt  on  the 
sands,  and  they  came  to  help  you  to  carry  him 
up." 

I  nodded  and  walked  forward  to  meet  them  ; 
for  by  now  I  knew  the  man,  yes,  and  the  woman, 
though  she  wore  a  veil.  And  it  was  too  late  to 
stop  their  approach.  Uncovering  my  head,  I 
stepped  up  to  them,  and  they  stopped  in  sur- 
prise at  seeing  me.  For  the  pair  were  Gustave 
de  Berensac  and  the  duchess.  He  had  gone, 
as  he  told  me  afterward,  to  seethe  duchess,  and 
they  had  spent  the  afternoon  in  a  drive,  and 
she  was  going  to  set  him  down  at  his  friend's 


A   PASSING  CARRIAGE.  205 

quarters  in  Pontorson,  when  Marie  met  them, 
and  not  knowing  them  nor  they  her  (though 
Gustave  had  once,  two  years  before,  heard  her 
sing)  had  brought  them  on  this  errand. 

The  little  duchess  threw  up  her  veil.  Her 
face  was  pale,  her  lips  quivered,  and  her  eyes 
asked  a  trembling  question.  At  the  sight  of 
me  I  think  she  knew  at  once  what  the  truth 
was :  it  needed  but  the  sight  of  me  to  let  light 
in  on  the  seemingly  obscure  story  which  Marie 
had  told,  of  a  duel  planned,  and  then  inter- 
rupted by  a  treacherous  assault  and  attempted 
robbery.  With  my  hand  I  signed  to  the 
duchess  to  stop  ;  but  she  did  not  stop,  but 
walked  past  me,  merely  asking : 

"  Is  he  badly  hurt  ?  " 

I  caught  her  by  the  arm  and  held  her. 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "badly;  "and  I  felt  her  eyes 
fixed  on  mine. 

Then  she  said,  gently  and  calmly : 

"  Then  he  is  dead  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  is  dead,"  I  answered,  and  loosed 
her  arm. 

Gustave  de  Berensac  had  not  spoken  :  and 
he  now  came  silently  to  my  side,  and  he  and  I 
followed  a  pace  or  two  behind  the  duchess. 
The  servant  had  halted  ten  or  fifteen  yards 
away.  Marie  had  reached  where  the  duke  lay 
and  stood  now  close  by  him,  her  arms  at  her 
side  and  her  head  bowed.  The  duchess  walked 
up  to  her  husband  and,  kneeling  beside  him, 
lifted  the  handkerchief  from  his  face.  The  ex- 
pression wherewith  he  had  spoken  his  epitaph 
— the  summary  of  his  life — was  set  on  his  face, 


206    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

so  that  he  seemed  still  to  smile  in  bitter  amuse- 
ment. And  the  little  duchess  looked  long  on 
the  face  that  smiled  in  contempt  on  life  and 
death  alike.  No  tears  came  in  her  eyes  and  the 
quiver  had  left  her  lips.  She  gazed  at  him 
calmly,  trying  perhaps  to  read  the  riddle  of  his 
smile.  And  all  the  while  Marie  Delhasse 
looked  down  from  under  drooping  lids. 

I  stepped  up  to  the  duchess'  side.  She  saw 
me  coming  and  turned  her  eyes  to  mine. 

"  He  looked  just  like  that  when  he  asked 
me  to  marry  him,"  she  said,  with  the  simple 
gravity  of  a  child  whose  usual  merriment  is 
sobered  by  something  that  it  cannot  under- 
stand. 

I  doubted  not  that  he  had.  Life,  marriage, 
death— so  he  had  faced  them  all,  with  scorn  and 
weariness  and  acquiescence — all,  save  that  one 
passion  which  bore  him  beyond  himself. 

The  duchess  spread  the  handkerchief  again 
over  the  dead  man's  face,  and  rose  to  her  feet. 
And  she  looked  across  the  dead  body  of  the 
duke  at  Marie  Delhasse.  I  knew  not  what  she 
would  say,  for  she  must  have  guessed  by  now 
who  the  girl  was  that  had  brought  her  to  the 
place.  Suddenly  the  question  came  in  a  tone 
of  curiosity,  without  resentment,  yet  tinctured 
with  a  delicate  scorn,  as  though  spoken  across 
a  gulf  of  difference : 

"  Did  you  really  care  for  him  at  all  ?  " 

Marie  started,  but  she  met  the  duchess'  eyes 
and  answered  in  a  low  voice  with  a  single  word : 

"  No." 

"  Ah,  well !  "  said   the  little  duchess  with  a 


A    PASSING  CARRIAGE.  2O7 

sigh  ;  and,  if  I  read  aright  what  she  expressed, 
it  was  a  pitying  recognition  of  the  reason  in  that 
answer :  he  could  not  have  expected  anyone  to 
love  him,  she  seemed  to  say.  And  if  that  were 
so,  then  indeed  had  the  finger  of  truth  guided 
the  duke  in  the  penning  of  his  epitaph. 

We  three,  who  were  standing  round  the  body, 
seemed  sunk  in  our  own  thoughts,  and  it  was 
Gustave  de  Berensac  who  went  to  the  servant 
and  bade  him  bring  the  carriage  nearer  to 
where  we  were ;  and  when  it  was  come,  they 
two  lifted  the  duke  in  and  disposed  his  body 
as  well  as  they  could.  The  man  mounted  the 
box,  and  at  a  foot-pace  we  set  out.  The  duch- 
ess had  not  spoken  again,  nor  had  Marie  Del- 
hasse  ;  but  when  I  took  my  place  by  Marie  the 
duchess  suffered  Gustave  to  join  her,  and  in 
this  order  we  passed  along.  But  before  we  had 
gone  far,  when  indeed  we  had  but  just  reached 
the  road,  we  met  four  of  the  police  hurrying 
along,;  and  before  they  came  to  us  or  saw  what 
was  in  the  carriage,  one  cried  : 

"  Have  you  seen  a  small  spare  man  pass  this 
way  lately  ?  He  would  be  running  perhaps,  or 
walking  fast." 

I  stepped  forward  and  drew  them  aside,  sign- 
ing the  carriage  to  go  on  and  to  the  others  to 
follow  it. 

"  I  can  tell  you  all  there  is  to  be  told  about 
him,  if  you  mean  the  man  whom  I  think  you 
mean,"  said  I.  "  But  I  doubt  if  you  will  catch 
him  now." 

And  with  that  I  told  them  the  story  briefly, 
and  so  far  as  it  affected  the  matter  they  were 


208    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

engaged  upon  ;  and  they  heard  it  with  much 
astonishment.  For  they  had  tracked  Pierre  (or 
Raymond  Pinceau  as  they  called  him,  saying  it 
was  his  true  name)  to  Bontet's  stable,  on  the 
matter  of  the  previous  attempt  on  the  necklace 
and  the  death  of  Lafleur,  and  on  no  other,  and 
did  not  think  to  hear  such  a  sequel  as  I  unfolded 
to  them. 

"  And  if  you  will  search,"  said  I,  "  some  six 
yards  behind  the  wall,  and  maybe  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  from  the  road,  I  fancy  you  will  find  Bon- 
tet ;  he  may  have  crawled  a  little  way,  but  could 
not  far,  I  think.  As  for  the  Duke  of  Saint- 
Maclou,  gentlemen,  his  body  was  in  the  car- 
riage that  passed  you  this  moment.  And  I 
am  at  your  service,  although  I  would  desire, 
if  it  be  possible,  to  be  allowed  to  follow  my 
friends." 

There  being  but  four  of  them  and  their  anxiety 
being  to  achieve  the  capture  of  Pierre,  they 
made  no  difficulty  of  allowing  me  to  go  on  my 
way,  taking  from  me  my  promise  to  present 
myself  before  the  magistrate  at  Avranches  next 
day ;  and  leaving  two  to  seek  for  Bontet,  the 
other  two  made  on,  in  the  hope  of  finding  a 
boat  to  take  them  to  the  Mount,  whither  they 
conceived  the  escaped  man  must  have  directed 
his  steps. 

Thus  delayed,  I  was  some  time  behind  the 
others  in  reaching  the  inn,  and  I  found  Gustave 
waiting  for  me  in  the  entrance.  The  body  of 
the  duke  had  been  carried  to  his  own  room  and 
a  messenger  sent  to  procure  a  proper  convey- 
ance. Marie  Delhasse  was  upstairs,  and  Gus- 


A   PASSING  CARRIAGE.  2OQ 

tave's  message  to  me  was  that  the  duchess 
desired  to  see  me. 

"  Nay,"  said  I,  "  there  is  one  thing  I  want  to 
do  before  that ;  "  and  I  called  to  a  servant  girl 
who  was  hovering  between  terror  and  excite- 
ment at  the  events  of  the  evening,  and  asked 
her  whether  Mme.  Delhasse  had  returned. 

"  No,  sir,"  she  answered.  "  The  lady  left 
word  that  she  would  be  back  in  half  an  hour, 
but  she  has  not  yet  returned." 

Then  I  said  to  Gustave  de  Berensac,  laying 
my  hand  on  his  shoulder  : 

"  When  I  am  married,  Gustave,  you  will  not 
meet  my  mother-in-law  in  my  house  ;  "  and  I 
left  Gustave  staring  in  an  amazement  not  un- 
natural to  his  ignorance.  And  I  allowed  my- 
self to  be  directed  by  the  servant  girl  to  where 
the  duchess  sat. 

The  duchess  waited  till  the  door  was  shut, 
and  then  turned  to  me  as  if  about  to  speak,  but 
I  was  beforehand  with  her ;  and  I  began  : 

"  Forgive  me  for  speaking  of  the  necklace, 
but  I  fear  it  is  still  missing." 

The  duchess  looked  at  me  scornfully. 

"  He  gave  it  to  the  girl  again,  I  suppose  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  He  gave  it,"  I  answered,  "  to  the  girl's 
mother,  and  she,  I  fear,  has  made  off  with  it ;  " 
and  I  told  the  duchess  how  Mme.  Delhasse  had 
laid  her  plot.  The  duchess  heard  me  in  silence, 
but  at  the  end  she  remarked  : 

"  It  does  not  matter.  I  would  never  have 
worn  the  thing  again  ;  but  it  was  a  pretty  plot 
between  them." 


210   THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

"  The  duke  had  no  thought,"  I  began,  "  but 
that " 

"Oh,  I  meant  between  mother  and  daughter," 
said  the  duchess.  "  The  mother  gets  the  dia- 
monds from  my  husband ;  the  daughter,  it 
seems,  Mr.  Aycon,  is  likely  to  get  respectability 
from  you ;  and  I  suppose  they  will  share  the 
respective  benefits  when  this  trouble  has  blown 
over." 

It  was  no  use  to  be  angry  with  her  ;  to  con- 
fess the  truth,  I  felt  that  anger  would  come  ill 
from  me.  So  I  did  but  say  very  quietly  : 

"  I  think  you  are  wrong.  Mile.  Delhasse 
knew  nothing  of  her  mother's  device." 

"  You  do  not  deny  all  of  what  I  say,"  ob- 
served the  duchess. 

"  Mile.  Delhasse,"  I  returned,  "  is  in  no  need 
of  what  you  suggest ;  but  I  hope  that  she  will 
be  my  wife." 

"  And  some  day,"  said  the  duchess,  "  you  will 
see  the  necklace — or  perhaps  that  would  not  be 
safe.  Madame  will  send  the  money." 

"  When  it  happens,"  said  I,  "  on  my  honor,  I 
will  write  and  tell  you." 

The  duchess,  with  a  toss  of  her  head  which 
meant  "  Well,  I'm  right  and  you're  wrong," rose 
from  her  seat. 

"  I  must  take  poor  Armand  home,"  said  she. 
"  M.  de  Berensac  is  going  with  me.  Will  you 
accompany  us  ?  " 

"  If  you  will  give  me  a  delay  of  one  hour,  I 
will  most  willingly." 

"What  have  you  to  do  in  that  hour,  Mr. 
Aycon  ?  " 


A    PASSING  CARRIAGE.  211 

"  I  purpose  to  escort  Mile.  Delhasse  back  to 
the  convent  and  leave  her  there.  I  suppose  we 
shall  all  have  to  answer  some  questions  in  re- 
gard to  this  sad  matter,  and  where  can  she  stay 
near  Avranches  save  there  ?  " 

"  She  certainly  can't  come  to  my  house,"  said 
the  duchess. 

"  It  would  be  impossible  under  the  circum- 
stances," I  agreed. 

"  Under  any  circumstances,"  said  the  duchess 
haughtily. 

By  this  time  a  covered  conveyance  had  been 
procured,  and  when  the  duchess,  having  fired 
her  last  scornful  remark  at  me,  walked  to  the 
door  of  the  inn,  the  body  of  the  duke  was  being 
placed  in  it.  Gustave  de  Berensac  assisted  the 
servant,  and  their  task  was  just  accomplished 
when  Jacques  Bontet  was  carried  by  two  of  the 
police  to  the  door.  The  man  was  alive  and 
would  recover,  they  said,  and  be  able  to  stand 
his  trial.  But  as  yet  no  news  had  come  of  the 
fortune  that  attended  the  pursuit  of  Raymond 
Pinceau,  otherwise  known  as  Pierre.  It  was 
conjectured  that  he  must  have  had  a  boat  waiting 
for  him  at  or  near  the  Mount,  and,  gaining  it,  had 
for  the  moment  at  least  made  good  his  escape. 

"  But  we  shall  find  about  that  from  Bontet," 
said  one  of  them,  with  a  complacent  nod  at  the 
fellow  who  lay  still  in  a  sort  of  stupor,  with 
blood-stained  bandages  round  his  head. 

I  stood  by  the  door  of  the  duchess'  carriage, 
in  which  she  and  Gustave  were  to  follow  the 
body  of  the  duke,  and  when  she  came  to  step 
in  I  offered  her  my  hand.  But  she  would  have 


212    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

none  of  it.  She  got  in  unassisted,  and  Gustave 
followed  her.  They  were  about  to  move  off, 
when  suddenly,  running  from  the  house  in  wild 
dismay,  came  Marie  Delhasse,  and  caring  for 
none  of  those  who  stood  round,  she  seized  my 
arm,  crying : 

"  My  mother  is  neither  in  the  sitting  room 
nor  in  her  bedroom  !  Where  is  she  ?  " 

Now  I  saw  no  need  to  tell  Marie  at  that  time 
what  had  become  of  Mme.  Delhasse.  The 
matter,  however,  was  not  left  in  my  hands  ;  no, 
nor  in  those  of  Gustave  de  Berensac,  who  called 
out  hastily  to  the  driver,  "  Ready  !  Go  on,  go 
on  !  "  The  duchess  called  "  Wait !  "  and  then 
she  turned  to  Marie  Delhasse  and  said  in  calm 
cold  tones : 

"  You  ask  where  your  mother  is.  Well,  then, 
where  is  the  necklace  ?  " 

Marie  drew  back  as  though  she  had  been 
struck ;  yet  her  grip  did  not  leave  my  arm,  but 
tightened  on  it. 

"  The  necklace  ?  "  she  gasped. 

And  the  duchess,  using  the  most  scornful 
words  she  knew  and  giving  a  short  little  laugh, 
said. 

"  Your  mother  has  levanted  with  the  neck- 
lace. Of  course  you  didn't  know  ! " 

Thus,  if  Marie  Delhasse  had  been  stern  to 
the  Duke  of  Saint-Maclou  when  he  lay  dying, 
his  wife  avenged  him  to  the  full  and  more.  For 
at  the  words,  at  the  sight  of  the  duchess'  dis- 
dainful face  and  of  my  troubled  look,  Marie 
uttered  a  cry  and  reeled  and  sank  half-fainting 
in  my  arms. 


A   PASSING  CARRIAGE.  213 

"  Oh,  drive  on  !  "  said  the  Duchess  of  Saint- 
Maclou  in  a  weaned  tone. 

And  away  they  drove,  leaving  us  two  alone. 
Nor  did  Marie  speak  again,  unless  it  were  in 
distressed  incoherent  protests,  till,  an  hour  later, 
I  delivered  her  into  the  charge  of  the  Mother 
Superior  at  the  convent  by  the  side  of  the  bay. 
And  the  old  lady  bade  me  wait  till  she  saw 
Marie  comfortably  bestowed,  and  then  she  re- 
turned to  me  and  we  walked  side  by  side  for  a 
while  in  the  little  burying-ground,  she  listening 
to  an  outline  of  my  story.  Perhaps  I,  in  a 
lover's  zeal,  spoke  harshly  of  the  duchess ;  for 
the  old  lady  put  her  hand  upon  my  arm  and 
said  to  me  : 

"  It  was  not  for  losing  the  diamonds  that  her 
heart  was  sore — poor  silly  child  !  " 

And,  inasmuch  as  I  doubted  whether  my 
venerable  friend  thought  that  it  was  for  the  loss 
of  her  husband  either,  I  held  my  peace. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 
ffrom  SbaDow  to  Sunsbine. 

j]HERE  remains  yet  one  strange  and 
terrible  episode  of  which  I  must  tell, 
though  indeed,  I  thank  God,  I  was  in 
no  way  a  witness  of  it.  A  week  after 
the  events  which  I  have  set  down,  while  Marie 
still  lay  prostrate  at  the  convent,  and  I  abode 
at  my  old  hotel  in  Avranches,  assisting  to  the 
best  of  my  power  in  the  inquiry  being  held  by 
the  local  magistrate,  an  officer  of  police  arrived 
from  Havre ;  and  when  the  magistrate  had 
heard  his  story,  he  summoned  me  from  the 
ante-room  where  I  was  waiting,  and  bade  me 
also  listen  to  the  story.  And  this  it  was  : 

At  the  office  where  tickets  were  taken  for 
a  ship  on  the  point  to  make  the  voyage  to 
America,  among  all  the  crowd  about  to  cross,  it 
chanced  that  two  people  met  one  another — an 
elderly  woman  whose  face  was  covered  by  a 
thick  veil,  and  a  short  spare  man  who  wore  a 
fair  wig  and  large  red  whiskers.  Yet,  notwith- 
standing these  disguises,  the  pair  knew  one 
another.  For  at  first  sight  of  the  woman,  the 
man  cowered  away  and  tried  to  hide  himself ; 
while  she,  perceiving  him,  gave  a  sudden  scream 
and  clutched  eagerly  at  the  pocket  of  her  dress, 

314 


FROM  SHADOW  TO  SUNSHINE.  21$ 

Seeing  himself  feared,  the  ruffian  took  courage, 
his  quick  brain  telling  him  that  the  woman  also 
was  seeking  to  avoid  recognition.  And  when 
she  had  taken  her  ticket,  he  contrived  to  see  the 
book  and,  rinding  a  name  which  he  did  not  know 
as  hers,  he  tracked  her  to  the  inn  where  she  was 
lodging  till  the  vessel  should  start.  When  he 
walked  into  the  inn,  she  shrank  before  him  and 
turned  pale — for  he  caught  her  with  the  veil  off 
her  face — and  again  she  clutched  at  her  pocket. 
He  sat  down  near  her  :  for  a  while  she  sat  still ; 
then  she  rose  and  walked  out  into  the  air,  as 
though  she  went  for  a  walk.  But  he,  suspect- 
ing rightly  that  she  would  not  return,  tracked 
her  again  to  another  inn,  meaner  and  more 
obscure  than  the  first,  and,  walking  in,  he  sat 
down  by  her.  And  again  the  third  time  this 
was  done  :  and  there  were  people  who  had 
been  at  each  of  the  inns  to  speak  to  it :  and 
those  at  the  third  inn  said  that  the  woman 
looked  as  though  Satan  himself  had  taken  his 
place  by  her — so  full  of  helplessness  and  horror 
was  she ;  while  the  man  smiled  under  alert 
bright  eyes  that  would  not  leave  her  face,  except 
now  and  again  for  a  swift  watchful  glance  round 
the  room.  For  he  was  now  hunter  and  hunted 
both ;  yet,  like  a  clog  that  will  be  slain  rather 
than  loose  his  hold,  he  chose  to  risk  his  own 
life,  if  by  that  he  might  not  lose  sight  of  the 
unhappy  woman.  Two  lives  had  been  spent 
already  in  the  quest :  a  third  was  nought  to 
him  ;  and  the  woman's  air  and  clutching  of  her 
pocket  had  set  an  idea  afloat  in  his  brain. 
The  vessel  was  to  sail  at  six  the  next  morn- 


216    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

ing ;  and  it  was  eight  in  the  evening  when  the 
man  sat  down  opposite  the  woman  in  the  third 
inn  they  visited — it  was  no  better  than  a  drink- 
ing shop  near  the  quays.  For  half  an  hour  they 
sat,  and  there  was  that  in  their  air  that  made 
them  observed.  Suddenly  the  man  crossed  over 
to  the  woman  and  whispered  in  her  ear.  She 
started,  crying  low  yet  audibly,  "  You  lie ! " 
But  he  spoke  to  her  again  ;  and  then  she  rose 
and  paid  her  score  and  walked  out  of  the  inn 
on  to  the  quays,  followed  by  her  unrelenting 
attendant.  It  was  dark  now,  or  quite  dusk  ; 
and  a  loiterer  at  the  door  distinguished  their 
figures  among  the  passing  crowd  but  for  a  few 
yards  :  then  they  disappeared  ;  and  none  was 
found  who  had  seen  them  again,  either  under 
cover  or  in  the  open  air,  that  night. 

And  for  my  part,  I  like  not  to  think  how  the 
night  passed  for  that  wretched  old  woman  ;  for 
at  some  hour  and  in  some  place,  near  by  the 
water,  the  man  found  her  alone,  and  ran  his 
prey  to  the  ground  before  the  bloodhounds  that 
were  on  his  track  could  come  up  with  them. 

Indeed  he  almost  won  safety,  or  at  least  re- 
spite ;  for  the  ship  was  already  moving  when 
she  was  boarded  by  the  police,  who,  searching 
high  and  low,  came  at  last  on  the  spare  man 
with  the  red  whiskers ;  these  an  officer  rudely 
plucked  off  and  the  fair  wig  with  them,  and 
called  the  prisoner  by  the  name  of  Pinceau. 
The  little  man  made  one  rush  with  a  knife,  and, 
foiled  in  that,  another  for  the  side  of  the  vessel. 
But  his  efforts  were  useless.  He  was  hand- 
cuffed and  led  on  shore.  And  when  he  was 


FROM  SHADOW  TO  SUNSHINE.  217 

searched,  the  stones  which  had  gone  to  com- 
pose the  great  treasure  of  the  family  of  Saint- 
Maclou — the  Cardinal's  Necklace — were  found 
hidden  here  and  there  about  him  ;  but  the  set- 
ting was  gone. 

And  the  woman  ?  Let  me  say  it  briefly. 
Great  were  her  sins,  and  not  the  greatest  of 
them  was  the  theft  of  the  Cardinal's  Necklace. 
Yet  the  greater  that  she  took  in  hand  to  do  was 
happily  thwarted  ;  and  I  pray  that  she  found 
mercy  when  the  deep  dark  waters  of  the 
harbor  swallowed  her  on  that  night,  and  gave 
back  her  body  to  a  shameful  burial. 

In  the  quiet  convent  by  the  shores  of  the  bay 
the  wind  of  the  world,  with  its  burden  of  sin 
and  sorrow,  blows  faintly  and  with  tempered 
force :  the  talk  of  idle,  eager  tongues  cannot 
break  across  the  comforting  of  kind  voices  and 
the  sweet  strains  of  quiet  worship.  Raymond 
Pinceau  was  dead,  and  Jacques  Bontet  con- 
demned to  lifelong  penal  servitude  ;  and  the 
world  had  ceased  to  talk  of  the  story  that  had 
been  revealed  at  the  trial  of  these  men,  and — 
what  the  world  loved  even  more  to  discuss — 
of  how  much  of  the  story  had  not  been 
revealed. 

For  although  M.  de  Vieuville,  President  of 
the  Court  which  tried  Bontet,  and  father  of 
Alfred  de  Vieuville,  that  friend  of  the  duke's 
who  was  to  have  acted  at  the  duel,  compli- 
mented me  on  the  candor  with  which  I  gave 
my  evidence,  yet  he  did  not  press  me  beyond 
what  was  strictly  necessary  to  bring  home  to 


21 8    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

the  prisoners  the  crimes  of  murder  and  at- 
tempted robbery  with  which  they  were  charged. 
Not  till  I  knew  the  Judge,  having  been  intro- 
duced to  him  by  his  son,  did  he  ask  me  further 
of  the  matter ;  and  then,  sitting  on  the  lawn  of 
his  country-house,  I  told  him  the  whole  story, 
as  it  has  been  set  down  in  this  narrative,  saving 
only  sundry  matters  which  had  passed  between 
the  duchess  and  myself  on  the  one  hand,  and 
between  Marie  Delhasse  and  myself  on  the 
other.  Yet  I  do  not  think  that  my  reticence 
availed  me  much  against  an  acumen  trained 
and  developed  by  dialectic  struggles  with  gen- 
erations of  criminals.  For  the  first  question 
which  M.  de  Vieuville  put  to  me  was  this  : 

"  And  what  of  the  girl,  Mr.  Aycon  ?  She  has 
suffered  indeed  for  the  sins  of  others." 

But  young  Alfred,  who  was  standing  by, 
laid  a  hand  on  his  father's  shoulder  and  said 
with  a  laugh  : 

"  Father,  when  Mr.  Aycon  leaves  us  to- 
morrow, it  is  to  visit  the  convent  at  Avranches." 

And  the  old  man  held  out  his  hand  to  me, 
saying : 

"  You  do  well." 

To  the  convent  at  Avranches  then  I  went 
one  bright  morning  in  the  spring  of  the  next 
year;  and  again  1  walked  with  the  stately  old 
lady  in  the  little  burial  ground.  Yet  she  was  a 
little  less  stately,  and  I  thought  that  there  was 
what  the  profane  might  call  a  twinkle  in  her 
eye,  as  she  deplored  Marie's  disinclination  to 
become  a  permanent  inmate  of  the  establish- 
ment over  which  she  presided.  And  on  her 


FROM  SHADOW  TO  SUNSHINE.  2 19 

lips  came  an  indubitable  smile  when  I  leaped 
back  from  her  in  horror  at  the  thought. 

"  There  would  be  none  here  to  throw  her 
troubles  in  her  teeth,"  pursued  the  Mother 
Superior,  smiling  still.  "  None  to  remind  her 
of  her  mother's  shame  ;  none  to  lay  snares  for 
her ;  none  to  remind  her  of  the  beauty  which 
has  brought  so  much  woe  on  her ;  no  men  to 
disturb  her  life  with  their  angry  conflicting 
passions.  Does  not  the  picture  attract  you, 
Mr.  Aycon  ?  " 

"  As  a  picture,"  said  I,  "  it  is  almost  perfect. 
There  is  but  one  blemish  in  it." 

"  A  blemish  ?     I  do  not  perceive  it." 

"  Why,  madame,  I  cannot  find  anywhere  in 
your  canvas  the  figure  of  myself." 

With  a  laugh  she  turned  away  and  passed 
through  the  arched  gateway.  And  I  saw  my 
friend,  the  little  nun  who  had  first  opened  the 
door  to  me  when  I  came  seeking  the  duchess, 
pass  by  and  pause  a  moment  to  look  at  me. 
Then  I  was  left  alone  till  Marie  came  to  me 
through  the  gateway :  and  I  sprang  up  to  meet 
her. 

I  have  been  candid  throughout,  and  I  will  be 
candid  now — even  though  my  plain  speaking 
strikes  not  at  myself,  but  at  Marie,  who  must 
forgive  me  as  best  she  may.  For  I  believe  she 
meant  to  marry  me  from  the  very  first ;  and  I 
doubt  whether  if  I  had  taken  the  dismissal  she 
gave,  I  should  have  been  allowed  to  go  far  on 
my  solitary  way.  Indeed  I  think  she  did  but 
want  to  hear  me  say  how  that  all  she  urged 
was  lighter  than  a  feather  against  my  love  for 


220    THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

her,  and,  if  that  were  her  desire,  she  was  grati- 
fied to  the  full ;  seeing  that  for  a  moment  she 
frightened  me,  and  I  outdid  every  lover  since 
the  world  began  (it  cannot  be  that  I  deceive 
myself  in  thinking  that)  in  vehemence  and  in- 
sistence. So  that  she  reproved  me,  adding : 

"  You  can  hardly  speak  the  truth  in  all  that 
you  say  :  for  at  first,  you  know,  you  were  more 
than  half  in  love  with  the  Duchess  of  Saint- 
Maclou." 

For  a  moment  I  was  silenced.  Then  I  looked 
at  Marie  :  and  I  found  in  her  words  no  more  a 
rebuke,  but  a  provocation — aye,  a  challenge  to 
prove  that  by  no  possibility  could  I,  who  loved 
her  so  passionately,  ever  have  been  so  much  as 
half  in  love  with  any  woman  in  the  whole  world, 
the  Duchess  of  Saint-Maclou  not  excepted. 
And  prove  it  I  did  that  morning  in  the  burial 
ground  of  the  convent,  to  my  own  complete 
satisfaction,  and  thereby  overcame  the  last 
doubts  which  afflicted  Marie  Delhasse. 

And  if,  in  spite  of  that  most  exhaustive  and 
satisfactory  proof,  the  thing  proved  remained 
not  much  more  true  than  the  thing  disproved — 
why,  it  is  not  my  fault.  For  Love  has  a  virtue 
of  oblivion — yes,  and  a  better  still :  that  which 
is  past  he,  exceeding  in  power  all  Olympus 
besides,  makes  as  though  it  had  never  been, 
never  could  have  been,  and  was  from  the  first 
entirely  impossible,  absurd,  and  inconceivable. 
And  for  an  instance  of  what  I  say — if  indeed  a 
further  example  than  my  own  be  needed,  which 
should  not  be  the  case— let  us  look  at  the 
Duchess  of  Saint-Maclou  herself. 


FROM  SHADOW  TO  SUNSHINE.  221 

For,  if  I  were  half  in  love  with  the  duchess, 
which  I  by  no  means  admit,  modesty  shall  not 
blind  me  from  holding  that  the  duchess  was  as 
good  a  half  in  love  with  me.  Yet,  when  I  had 
been  married  to  Marie  Delhasse  some  six 
months,  I  received  a  letter  from  my  good  friend 
Gustave  de  Berensac,  informing  me  of  his 
approaching  union  with  Mine,  de  Saint-Ma- 
clou.  And,  if  I  might  judge  from  Gustave's 
letter,  he  repudiated  utterly  the  idea  which 
I  have  ventured  to  suggest  concerning  the 
duchess. 

Two  other  facts  Gustave  mentioned — both  of 
them,  I  think,  with  a  touch  of  apology.  The 
first  was  that  the  duchess,  being  unable  to 
endure  the  horrible  associations  now  indisso- 
lubly  connected  with  the  Cardinal's  Necklace, 
of  which  she  had  become  owner  for  the  term  of 
her  life 

"  What  ?  Won't  she  wear  it  ?  "  asked  my 
wife  at  this  point :  she  was  (as  wives  will) 
leaning  over  my  shoulder  as  I  read  the  letter. 

It  was  what  I  also  had  expected  to  read  ; 
but  what  I  did  read  was  that  the  duchess,  in- 
geniously contriving  to  save  both  her  feelings 
and  her  diamonds,  had  caused  the  stones  to  be 
set  in  a  tiara — "  which,"  continued  Gustave  (I 
am  sure  he  was  much  in  love)  "  will  not  have 
any  of  the  unpleasant  associations  connected 
with  the  necklace." 

And  the  second  fact  ?  It  was  this — just  this, 
though  it  was  wrapped  up  in  all  the  roundabout 
phrases  and  softened  by  all  the  polite  expres- 
sions of  friendship  of  which  Gustave  was 


222   THE  INDISCRETION  OF  THE  DUCHESS. 

master, — yet  just  this, — that  he  was  not  in  a  posi- 
tion to  invite  myself  and  my  wife  to  the  wed- 
ding !  For  the  little  duchess,  consistent  to  the 
end,  in  spite  of  his  entreaties  and  protests,  had 
resolutely  and  entirely  declined  to  receive  Mrs. 
Aycon  ! 

I  finished  the  letter  and  looked  up  at  Marie. 
And  Marie,  looking  thoughtfully  down  at  the 
paper,  observed  : 

"  I  always  told  you  that  she  was  fond  of  you, 
you  know." 

But,  for  my  part,  I  hope  that  Marie's  expla- 
nation is  not  the  true  one.  I  prefer  to  attribute 
the  duchess*  refusal — in  which,  I  may  state,  she 
steadily  persists — to  some  mistaken  and  mis- 
placed sense  of  propriety  ;  or,  if  that  fails  me, 
then  I  will  set  it  down  to  the  fact  that  Marie's 
presence  would  recall  too  many  painful  and  dis- 
tressing scenes,  and  be  too  full  of  unpleasant 
associations.  Thus  understood,  the  duchess' 
refusal  was  quite  natural  and  agreed  completely 
with  what  she  had  done  in  respect  of  the  neck- 
lace— for  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  turn  the 
edge  of  the  difficulty  by  converting  Marie  into  a 
tiara  ! 

So  the  duchess  will  not  receive  my  wife.  But 
I  forgive  her — for,  beyond  doubt,  but  for  the 
little  duchess  and  that  indiscretion  of  hers,  I 
should  not  have  received  my  wife  myself ! 


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THE  PRISONER  OF 

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STAMPED  BELOW 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  SO  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.OO  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


MAY  9    1934 

" 

rt  rv 

A^131937 

APR    201923 

MAR   9     1943 

m$  21.  tS47 

I2]un'59l0 

RECTD  LD 

575743 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


